Christmas 2009, depressing.

Photo: Matt age 3

December 21, Monday, 2009 (5/10)

Boring day, except that I made my way to Cindy’s because I was so depressed.  She took pity on me and gave me 5 perks, which changed and brightened my day.

I’m coming to discover how deeply addicted to opiates I am, no matter how many sober days I put together I always end up falling apart and moving backwards.  I need to approach it from a better direction I think.  Somehow I really need out.

The winter is so very cold.  I cannot wait until it ends.

Intake: 50 mg oxyco oral

December 22, Tuesday, 2009 (5.5/10)

Today, shot down on I raise at work.  I asked for a raise a week ago, and today I was told “No, economy is bad. Obama will kill us with healthcare taxes.” Bullshit!!!  They have more than enough money to pay me $9/ hour like they should for running that damn kitchen.

John has been in a good mood lately, but I have been “hiding” from him nonetheless.  Don’t really know why I have been avoiding him, but I do, and it isn’t very healthy.

And Christmas will be depressing this year.  I’m thinking about the end of the decade, and I’ve damned near wasted the whole thing!!!

Intake: Ø day 1

December 23, Wednesday, 2009 (6/10)

Found my red pen!!  Great for journal entries that find me using opiates.  I hope to use it not as much in the coming months and years.

Cindy gave me quite a scare today.  I was supposed to go to do her floors for her today; when I called Lenny answered and told me he was rushing Cindy to the hospital because he thought she was having a stroke.  I got super worried, but it turned out later that she merely had a bad reaction to a new medication she was given for headaches, Topamax, or something like that.

The other day Cindy told me that April had been arrested and would be in jail for a while.  From what I’ve gathered she got all fu**ed up (opiates) and missed a corner, took her car into the ditch.  It seems she wasn’t injured too badly, but police arrived and she was arrested.  She most likely has new charges as well as they sign a revocation and going back to prison for some more of her sons.  It’s really a damn shame; she is too beautiful to be such a horrible junkie.  She already has done two years in prison, and she is facing a lot more time.  I bet that she will be sitting in county for a long time, and if they don’t send her back to prison, she will most likely be transferred to a very secure in-patient treatment for more than a few months.  Sad, sad tale.  I’ve rarely met anyone with this bad of a habit as she has.  It’s just such a severe drug problem, incredible.

I hope that my fate is never the same. I run the same risks for fucking around with dope like I do, but right now my habit barely compares with anything “problematic”, at least not socially, not yet anyways.  I wish I had never tasted opiates, that I could simply put down the needle forever, but it’s proving to be so very hard; still I fight, still a struggle, one day I will win!

I got my vikes filled today, probably the last refill I’ll get on those until my doctor comes back from Florida, which I don’t know when that will be.  I have a very powerful lust for opiates lately, more than is normal for the past few months.  I was (and still am) furiously trying to find something that I can inject, that’s what I’m looking for tonight and all day tomorrow.  I have the cash.  It’s only a matter of time now until someone connects with some “shotgun shells,” as I like to call them.  Still don’t know what I’m doing for Christmas.  It’s either with Cindy and her family or alone with my pills.  I’d almost rather be fucked up alone, we’ll see.

Intake: 1(95 mg hydroco, smoked)

Do you feel like Matt? Why?

(I remember calling Matt this year, but never did he mention any of these thoughts. I imagine we often do not tell people how we really are feeling when asked, “So, how you doing?” I would like to change that canned phrase by telling people that I ‘really’ want to know, and I have to time to discuss the depth such a question entails. Matt’s mom)

November 2, Monday 2009 rated 5

I’ve had enough.  I’ve had enough drugs; I’ve had enough heart-break; I’ve had enough of playing the loser.  I want out; I want out now!!!  Tomorrow I’m hitting the pavement hard to look for a second job.  When I find that job, I’ll work my ass off until I get enough money to go back to Europe, if I haven’t gone to Ukraine, back to Poland and seen Pela again.  By Nov. 2nd next year I’m going to end my life;  I really will; if I can’t make something this simple happen by then, I’ll do the un-thinkable. Better to DIE than to go on living like this, never achieving anything, always just being satisfied with survival.  No more.

I’m real emotional tonight because I have just seen some pictures of Pela from her trip to Italy.  I find it impossible to believe that 3 years later I still find fire in my soul for this girl.  I wish it was gone.  I wish there were some way to extinguish this feeling, but no–it creeps up into the very depths of my soul; it is extended there.  Why?  Why?  Why? What exactly does the future hold now with this?  BE GONE!!

I hereby RESOLVE to have traveled to Europe by this time next year.

Intake: Ø day 1

November 1, Sunday 2009 rated 5

Went to church today with Jason from work.  It was actually quite nice; went out to eat chicken after that, just had a grand old time

Got home from that quite sleepy, took a nap, and then walked over to Pat’s place, smoked some weed with him; just took it easy.

I can feel something inside now, everyday I believe that I get a little more un-comfortable with my situation; everyday I get a little more comfortable with change.  The change I need to make in order to be happy again, it’s coming; it’s coming soon.

Intake: 4(55 mg hydroco, oral, smoked)

  • Today marks the 2 year anniversary of the last time I spoke to Pela.

(For those who do not understand, Pela* is the girl from Poland who Matt loved deeply. Matt remembered dates in an unexplicable way. He remembered the day grandpa did whatever, the day on the calendar that he lost his virginity, the day that someone died, left, or first said hello. He marked the calendar of his life with every moment of important memories. He marked his days. Though this whole debacle may not seem that he valued them, conversely, he valued them highly and each individual who marked his life was marked for ever on the day of the arrival/departure in his mind forever, not written but remembered.

I should be more like that. I forgot my own birthday several times. But, Matt never did. I still have the chop sticks and Last Supper Plate he bought for me to mark those days. I guess we should all learn to mark our days.)

October 31, Halloween, Saturday 2009 rated 4.75

I was in a sour mood all night at work; didn’t really say anything to anybody all night long.  People were dressed up, and everyone had plans to go out and party somewhere.  I came home, smoked a bowl and listened to music by myself–went to bed early.  Hell of a night.  I could have gone out and done something with Pat. I hadn’t the motivation to do so.

I take these breaks every two weeks or so, breaks from my antidepressants.  I really notice the depression creep back in, especially if I’m smoking weed.  I go off of it because if I partied my vicodin with my TCA, I wouldn’t be able to wake up  in the mornings!!! I’ve thankfully been able to reserve myself to just my vikes this week and only $36 cost–half of last paycheck’s total.  I’m just itching to go to Ukraine and do something worth bragging about.  I have a plan and now I am moving more steadily towards it.  I need to  be proud of who I am once again, need to be worthy once again of a woman’s love.

Intake: 3(50 mg hydroco oral, smoked)

October 30, Friday 2009 rated 7+, communicate compel comprehension (4 yr anniversary IV use)

A great day today.  Irina called me from the Ukraine.  Any day she calls me is a good day.  We spoke for over an hour, just catching up.  She has a new boyfriend now, someone she thinks she is in love with.  She is going on a business trip to Dubai!! Amazing.  I miss her so much, and I feel great to know that she likes me enough to keep up with me. I MUST gain a second job and buy a damn ticket to see her soon!  She told me on the phone that she would be more than willing to help Renee out upon her arrival in Kyiu.  Great!

Work was busy. Tess (that miserable B**ch) left after only an hour because she was “sick”.  Sounds off-hand like some bullshit to me, but I really should just put all of that out of my mind, think neutral and nothing about her.  Athena is a trooper; she was off the side of the kitchen throwing up into a can at one point, and she never even thought of asking to go home. Some people know how to work; some people just don’t get it.

Traded Athena some vikes for a few bowls—the stuff is amazing, one of the best I’ve ever smoked.  One hit really does it.

I once again have the thought in my head of pulling completely out of trouble, get that second job and go to the Ukraine!!!

Intake: 2(50 mg hydroco oral, smoked great weed)

*Today also marks the 4 year anniversary of me beginning my journey into IV drug use.

October 28, Wednesday 2009 rated 5 (Want to strive for more, more, more)

Today was all right.  I got paid ($455), my biggest check ever from the restaurant.  Sad part is that it’s already gone to food and bills!!  I bought my vikes out, $36, and that’s the extent of the money I’ll be spending on drugs for the next 2 weeks—good for me.

I got pretty f**ked up today.  Smoked with Pat and ate some vikes; later Athena came over and we got really ripped.  Ate some more vikes, went shopping for food, an average day.

Even though I was getting high and spending time with friends, I noticed that I had the most depressed feeling though.  I thought this was strange.  I think that very slowly my mind and subconscious is turning against this lifestyle I’ve been living.  I need to move on to greater things.  I must make a complete change.

It’s important, I think, not to become content with my progress and instead continue to strive for more, more, more.  I’ve been seeing light at the end of the tunnel lately, even though I sometimes wonder if I possess the strength to reach it. One day, God willing, one fine day….

Intake: 60 m hydroco, oral. smoked A LOT. 2 beers

October 27, Tuesday 2009 rated 5 (In a funk)

I think I definitely am getting sick with something, but the onset must be slow because all I have is a little cough and a small sense of discomfort in my upper trachea.  I was coughing only a little today.  I hope I’m not worse tomorrow.  If so, I’m sure there is a way I can up $36 for my vicodin refill.  We’ll see.

Work was moderately steady today.  I had Athena with me, so we rocked out.  Rita said she had to talk to me about something, sounded negative, but she never got around to it.  I guess if I make my shift tomorrow we’ll find out.

I have begun to notice that my life is moving along in a predictable and steady pace lately.  As nice as that is, I also notice something else quite troubling:  I am not as creative or outgoing as I once was, almost as if I am in a funk.  I seem to have lost the ability to assert myself to other people.  Previously, in life, this was a hallmark ability that I possessed–gone now almost completely, I’m sad to report.  I need to re-gain this if I am to ever succeed in the way that I want to.

Intake: Ø day 5

October 26, Monday 2009 no rating

Went up to Cindy’s today, visited with her and Lennie for a while—helped Cindy go shopping at Aldis and Pick ‘n’ Save.  Her bottle was out, but I took noting—good for me.

Work was slow.  I worked with Jason, once again a great guy.

I took an extra 50 mg of amiltriptlene last night.  It didn’t help me sleep any more soundly, and I felt so dazed today, just way out of it.  Lucky for me this disappeared by the beginning of work.

Once again I feel like I may be getting sick.  Maybe it’s just my mind.  I hope I awake and I feel find, but who knows.  I may have the feared “swine flu”!!  I figure I’m strong and healthy enough to get over most any bug.  We’ll just see.

Intake: Ø day 4

October 25 sunday 2009 rated 5

Day off today.  Got with Pat and helped him clean out one of the properties that he over-sees.  It was a depressing affair, cleaning out the possessions of those tenants.  The place was an awful mess.  We spent 2 hours just getting stuff in piles in the middle of the floor.  After we got done, Pat fed me and we had a few drinks, not really an “Ideal” way to spend a day off, but something to do rather than sitting home alone.

Intake: Ø day 3

October 24, Saturday 2009 rated 5 (can’t wait to get high)

Another work week has ended.  I wasn’t able to capture my 10 hr Saturday shift like I wanted, as such I will only have a 70 hour pay-check, which will be my best yet, which is pretty damn sad considering the money that I used to bring in.  Need to work a little harder I guess.

Was going to hang out with Pat again tonight, but he was worn out from last night still.  I have the internet back, so that’s a nice bonus.

I hope my day off tomorrow isn’t so boring as is usually the case.  I know Thursday will be a good day off (getting high, getting paid).  Can’t wait till Thursday.

Intake: Ø day 2

October 23rd, Friday 2009 rated 5 (Naked without Facebook)

Today was average.  I worked, and at work Tess was finally pulled into the office by Rita and given a “ talking to”.  It lasted a really long time, past close, over an hour.  I don’t know why.  Who would have anything to talk about for an over an hour in that place?

Went out with Pat and his girlfriend for a drink after work.  It was so/so as is always the case when I drink.

The big story right now to me is that John f**ked up his computer good.  I can’t access the internet!!  Bastard! It’s just because he has a low IQ and can’t understand the basics of something so complicated as a computer!!

Idiot, I feel naked without my Facebook!!

Intake:  Ø day 1

October 22, Thursday 2009, rated 5.5 (I wish I had taken care…, decay all over the place)

I broke my streak of sober today, scrambled up $20 from Don and bought 45 mg of morphine.  Too bad, it was an awful waste of money, as is always the case.

Work was short, 3 hours, and of course Tess was being worthless as always.  I finally brought my case before Elta, and she totally agreed with me.  I think the problem will be handled in short order, if not I think that Tess will be in danger of loosing her job, at least I hope she loses it.  She is just about as worthless as a cook as anything else.

I notice that my teeth are beginning to cavity and decay all over the place.  I need to see a dentist for some very serious work soon if I hope to ep them past age 30.  I really wish I had taken better care of them.  I’m beginning to become quite self-conscious about them.  I think they have kept me out of the love game to some extent.  I regret wasting and not taking better care of them.  I sure do now, but I think it may be too late to do anything about them.

Intake:  45 mg morphine IV SHIT!!!!! NO !!!!!

Day 1 tomorrow, Please……


October 21, Wednesday 2009 rated 5 (strange thing happened–realization about the world)

Today was busy for a Wednesday at work.  I finally convinced them to put a third man on Wednesday night.  I’m really starting to get burned out with the routine.  It’s been quite the struggle at that place lately, so much for 2 people to get accomplished.  Other than that, I’m happy there.  I don’t dread going to work anymore; I get along well with the people there; it beats the shit out of Subway, so I always remember that at least.

Something quite strange happened today; Leah, a girl I was friends with back in my Subway days, called me at 1:30 in the morning.  That in itself isn’t outrageously strange, but when she started asking me if I knew where to get any cocaine it became strange.  I haven’t spoken to or seen this girl in months, probably 3 months, so it caught me really off guard.  Of course, I told her that I didn’t know where to get anything (I really don’t; I don’t mess with coke; it’s really no fun). Anyways, I saw today that she had called me on my caller ID while I was at work.  I called her back to discover that she thought she had OD’d on coke.  She had been smoking it, and she thought that she had a tad too much.  I told her to find some Valium and if she couldn’t that she should go to the E.R.  Damn, I’ve been departing from drugs lately.  I notice, it seems a lot more, how messed up that whole world is, just sickening to me more and more.  Perhaps that’s a good thing.

Intake: Ø day 3, a little alcohol

October 20, Tuesday 2009, rated 4 ( Youth slipping by, inconsequential)

I think I’m finally coming down with a cold.  I’ve missed it the last 2 years, so I figure I’m over-due.

Loneliness is starting to get to me a little.  I wonder when I’ll bump into love again.  No use, sleep, work, a few friends, whatever drugs I can get my hands on.  Another day rolls by, inconsequential, nothing gained, and a little more youth lost every day.

John has been really nice, for how long no one can tell.  Fed me a good burger tonight, what a guy!!

Small steps, small steps…

Intake Ø day 2, smoked

October 19, Monday 2009, rated 5 (Epic battle drags on)

Warm day outside today.  I guess we get our “Indian summer’ in one dose on one day, too bad.  I bet it’ll be cold again tomorrow or in a few days; it’s all downhill from here.

Average day other than that, I’m starting another “off” period for opiates.  This will most likely last for about 10-12 days, unless Joey throws me something tomorrow (He owes me big, but he’s been a scum-bag lately.  I hold out little hope that he’ll ever set me up sans cash).  I’m looking to take a nice long run without the shit; I find that it’s really good for me, for my mind to be away from that shit.  I’m working towards the ultimate goal of being completely off someday soon—it’s been an epic battle, back and forth.  I need to win; I need to come out ahead on this one, for the first time in a long time I think that I can do it, my confidence builds with every multi-day run that I complete.

Some day soon, God willing, someday soon…

Intake Ø day 1

October 18, sunday 2009 rated 5

Today ends a crazy week.  I was using opiates all week, but I managed to only spend about $70 all told out of this last pay-check.  I paid off a chunk of my loan at cash-in-a-flash, and just generally spent my money on bills this week.  I’m quite happy and proud of myself–I exercised some real control over this damn habit, plan now to keep going in this direction taking little steps that lead to bigger things.  First with my money I gotta get that damn pay-day loan paid off.  Then I’m getting my license assessment and getting my damn licence back. After that I’m buying myself off probation, and then getting a car.  After I’ve achieved all that I’ll be moving with Renee to Madison and hopefully get the balls to finish my education.  Almost forgot my trip to Ukraine, that’s in the works still.  I’ve let so much time slip away, it’s unbelievable to me.

I have been doing an awesome job at the restaurant lately, and I am  now the top guy in the kitchen, and I’m going even higher than that.  I’ve found a new energy since breaking my addiction and depression at the end of August.  I’m still using but every week I bring it a little more under control. The anti-depressants really help the whole situation–need to stay up on those for sure.

I don’t know what’s up with April; I hope everyday that I don’t suffer some type of retaliation from her, but if she finds out about me answering questions I’ll be getting some retaliation I’m sure.  I hope the best for her, and myself; I need to get completely clear too.

Intake: 30 mg morphine EV, 50 mg hydroco oral, 7th

Matthew climbing that mountain….

straight day of using*BAD!!!

End of first spiral instructions on back cover

Instructions for myself when I actually get to this end page!!


continue journaling until Jan. 13, 2010, at which time I will collect the 6 months of entries from July 13 — Jan. 13 and edit them , type them up, make a 6 month copy, laminate it, also memorialize these words electronically so as to ensure their survival in multiple ways.  Do this every sixth month for the rest of my life so I can leave an appropriate record for the next generations of my family and friends, as well as history at large!.

May God help me in this endeavor!

(So, after reading this last page of his first journal, I had to carry out his mission. So sad that the generations he expected to read this were to be his own children. Matthew really wanted kids and spoke about this hope often. Therefore, you all need to be this prodigy. Please help keep Matthew alive by passing this on, explaining this to others, and fighting against the casual prescription of opiods/opiates to the unsuspecting. I did as he would have wanted; I did some edits.  And, may God help me in this endeavor too.

Matt’s mom, Jane)

Wed. Oct. 14, 2009 rated 4 (I sold April out, uhrgh, want to save her life)

Page 100 of journal! Weird, but this is the 100th post too.

Today at work I had a conference with _______ and Elta for about an hour, all about April and what happened last night.  I had to out her, had no other choice.  I told them all about April and the heroin she had and all the lies.  We called my P.O.  and I told her the whole story was well.  That was tought, breaking the cold of silence, but it was absolutely necessary.  April is a danger to herself and everyone around her.  She would end up dead if someone didn’t intervene.  She will be in a world of shit now.  I feel like I sold her out! but I felt a force inside that pushed me towards it, inexplicable.  I just hope I don’t get caught up in all of this and go down with her too.

April called me today trying to convince me that she could fix everything by telling some more lies. This time she wants to tell everyone she’s pregnant–just sick.  I don’t think I’ll be seeing April much anymore; we’re not going to be friends, I don’t think.

Intake:  heroin 1 shot IV

(For anyone reading this, just imagine what this was like reading this as Matt’s mom. I was so thankful to receive these journals, but really felt so guilt ridden. Any parent out there reading needs to realize this: If your child had a drug problem ever, look closer at the now. Look really close and listen like you are on trial, because you are. I listened like a rock skipped across the water, like listening to the neighbor’s dog, like I listened at meetings that were not about me. I just didn’t pick up on the little hints, the inconsistencies. Either that or when I heard these inconsistencies I pounced like a panther on his throat. I was thinking that I could treat him like he was 14 or something. Well, he did act like it… Problem was that he needed to be treated like he was 24. He needed to hear, “Oh, wow, really? So, let’s look at this for what it is. Isn’t life hard? You know what happened to me once….” If I had been less like the whip and more like the cooling towel he may have told me this story, and I wouldn’t have had to wait until after he was dead a year to read it. Upon reading this I was dumb (not able to speak). Thankfully I am now a bit less dumb (able to hear and speak). I listen much better now. I even smile when I listen now. Actually, I don’t even force my advice! I give it, but I also make sure to let the other listener know that I really don’t know it all, like I thought when I did know it all….

So, what would you tell someone who told you this? Would you give advice? I am struggling with what I would have said to Matt if he had told me this episode in his short life. I am actually still wondering what someone can/should/ could say to turn this situation around for Matt.

Matt’s mom)”

Mon/Tues, Oct 12 and 13, 2009 rated 5 ( back on methadone and heroin! April OD’ed and met bad connection!)

First time I’ve seen snow all year–season.  Broke my streak today.  April also decided to treat me like garbage o a deal we were doing.  That’s really too bad. Intake:  Valium, 20 mg. methadone oral

Today was quite odd in so many ways.  April finally did it, finally f**ked everything up. She missed work, and Athena and I found her in the parking lot, basically nodding her head out.  I thought she had OD’ed she was that f*ked up.  Craig was called and showed up with her parents.  She was just acting absolutely wild, pissed at me because I took her keys and gave them to ____.  I guess Chris broke up with her; good for him as April really needs some help.  I think she is a sociopath and maybe nothing will ever work for her, except prison again.  Crazy night.  I brought this Jake guy over and he split some heroin with me, first time I’ve done that in quite a while.  Bad thing.  These people are bad news for me.

Intake:  Valium, 20 mg. methadone, heroin IV

Sunday, October 11, 2009 rated 5 (Cindy’s house,church, faith healer seemed like a fake)

Had the day off today.  finally got ahold of Cindy and Lenny, went over there and mowed the lawn, helped Cindy clean the whole house.  We all had a nice time.  They are finally having a prospective buyer look at the house tomorrow.  I would like to say that I hope they sell it, but I would be sad to see them go.

I finally accompanied them to their church tonight.  They had a “faith healer” visiting from Atlanta.  I believe in miracle healing, but his guy seemed to be more of an actor/salesman type, really put on quite a show, full of bravado, full of act and fire.  He really rubbed me wrong.  It seemed like a scam to my eyes and ears.  I think I may go back to church with them, but we’ll see.

Been good about drugs, laying down some real sober time  Contemplating bigger things now.  Hope to reach the goal.

(I have been trying not to interject, but I can’t help but comment on this journal. You see, Matt and I spoke quite a bit about this incident. As I was trying to explain my faith, I was very disconcerted by this first visit, after years of not attending, to church. I will say plainly: Satan planned this!

If you have ever read Canterbury Tales you will well understand the Pardoner’s Tale. Being ‘churched’ myself I am quite accustomed to regular and seemingly welcome visits from Satan in the pulpit, pardoners of sin for silver. I have suffered through so many of these medicine shows, which are  designed to wrench dollars out of widows and dying cancer victims that I could enact a whole show myself.  It was like, “Lead me to those who are dying. I will heal them if they pay me.”

I always thought, “If I could heal anyone, I would visit every hospital and touch everyone I could, no charge.” Therefore, I am convinced that the Benny Hinns of the world will fry in the hottest spot of hell.

After hearing of this church visit from Matt … I was so disconcerted that Matt ran into this sort of worship/antiworship/worship of avarice and ignorance. This man needed to hear the word of God, and this church was whored out to someone with a fake southern accent, with a bad imitation of Martin Luther King, Jr., without the concern for someone like my kid–penniless– and with a pimp, white-silk outfit–I could have aspirated on my own bile.

We spoke in length about this encounter. I tried in vain to counter the whole experience. But, the fact was plain–Christianity delivered in our tradition, the Hillbilly tradition, was being prostituted out to those whose avarice and experience was conventional.

I remember so clearly when I went down to Lansing, MI to aid in a conventional, church building project. This very conservative church did not allow me to sleep in the same house as the man I rode down with; we were not married. I went to help pour concrete and knew what to do. However, in the morning I was escorted through the kitchen to prepare snacks for the men. Then, to my horror, I was escorted to the skirt room. Kindly, I was told that this church believed that women didn’t dress like men, and as I was wearing pants–I needed to pick out a skirt. The room was like the biggest walk-in closet I have ever seen. However, I smiled, declined, and asked if they would still like my charity work. The woman was a bit struck from my candor. “So what?”, I thought. Her mouth fell open only for a second and then the perma-smile came back. Then, she led me out and decided to serve donuts herself. I worked the day pulling and mixing mud.

An interesting addendum to this experience was the reason for pouring this massive slab. The church was building on a section in order to produce more Bibles. Seemed that the whole Bible production business was quite lucrative. The owner of the business was very warm– a really affective in person. So, we spoke at length. He explained that he only sold King James versions as he made a better profit. He complained about his wife, who was around #550 and couldn’t even walk anymore, he remarked about his sons’ new  expensive vehicles, and to top it off he asked me if he could visit me, wink wink.

I am not sure of what to make of all this: Matt’s need to connect with God, his experience in seeking, my experiences in avarice, and the true existence of God. I do know this: God is real. Many but not all of big religion have fallen to Satan. I know the difference. I don’t believe very many people can see this difference. I believe many people see the presence of Satan where they expected to see Jesus. My son needed to see Jesus but was given Satan by those who believe they know God. I wonder how things would have gone for Matt if there wasn’t a fake healer in church that day. I wonder. I also wonder what will be their recompense…. I bet this won’t be easy to watch. But, I do know I will still watch and not even blink.

God, please save me, my son, my daughters, all those dealing with addiction,  and all others who are tricked by Satan! I pray for us all.


Matt’s mom, Jane)



Wednesday October 7, 2009 rated 6 (Thinking about my life, need out, burn cruise)

Today was pretty cool.  I did a burn cruise with April (always a good time).  we took a drive out to Winneconie to see April’s new pad, and it is absolutely gorgeous!  Like a millionaire’s Palace!  I’m really happy for her.  I would consider her a good friend of mine. [I have no idea what this means. It just comes off wrong. But, I know/knew/will know Matt and I am sure he didn’t really expect anyone else to read these scribbles. I believe he was just saying that he felt she was a friend for sharing the fun in seeing her new place.  Matt’s mom]

I’ve been thinking a lot (still) about where I want to go with my life.  Just starting something is tough, I figure my best option would be to find a second place of employment and just work my buns off, save all the money and then move away to something better, my education, my life.  I am glad that I can at least think in a positive way now–need out, need out.

Tuesday, October 6, 2009 rated 5 (trying to beat my own mind)

Regular day today, again.  The weather was really bad all day; super windy and full of rain.  I walked to the food pantry and got me some FOOD!

Work is becoming more stressful because the staff was cut by one guy and we close earlier, so we are doing more work in less time; It’s a challenge.

I felt “well” today, didn’t use a thing.  My mind is however still poling at me, telling me that opiates are the best in life.  It’s terrible.  I have to now bear my own mind.

Intake:  Ø day five

Monday October 5, 2009, rated 5 (pain in abdomen, Farve, the seasons)

Another average day today.  Work was busy, not only for a Monday, but also because we expected it would be slow for the PACKER GAME OF THE CENTURY.  Favre is playing against the Packers for the first time ever; it’s not looking good for the Pact.  The game is in progress right now.

I have a strange pain that is constant in my lower right abdomen.  Dont know what it is , but I’ve been shitting noting but water for the better part of the last 2 weeks.  I hope it’s not crohns or UC (VC?) or something worse.  I first noticed the pain back in July but thought it was simply taking too much APAP (whatever that is, MM?).  I will find out next week Wednesday when I see my doctor.

October is in full swing, but it was nice today, almost 60 degrees out;  I already miss my 80 degree days!!!

Intake:  Ø day 4, NOTHING at all!!

October 4, Sunday 2009, rated 5 (Slipped on Thurs., feeling I’m getting better but smoking and drinking more)

I have been bad about keeping up with my journal; I need to refocus and get back to my entries.  I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately; hasn’t amounted to much in the way of action, but i will soon change that I hope.

The last few days have been okay.  I’s getting colder out, but I find myself almost looking forward to the rest of October.  I used opiates on Thursday (payday, 40 mg Oc IV) and for that I’m not happy.  I had 8 whole days of sober and messed it up!  Now I have 3, but it went by so quickly, maybe that means I’m getting better?  I’ve been smoking a lot more marijuana lately, and my drinking has increased a bit.  I really just need to cut all of this out.

Renee is in Poland, thinks she may just visit Pripyat and Chernobyl.  Talk about jealous!!

Intake:  Ø day 3, smoked

September 29, Tues. 2009 rated 5.5 (Stuck with roommate, jealous to travel again)

Today and yesterday you could really feel fall in full force; the dull flatness of Autumn was readily perceivable in the light table.

I’ll be staying at New Your Ave awhile longer I suppose, probably through the winter.  Almost got out!!

Talked to Renee via Facebook; she is really sick, but she sounds absolutely glowing about where she is, happy to be in Poland and young.  God, I get so jealous when I talk to her!!  I need to get back that way someday soon.

Work is going well.

Intake: Ø day 6, smoked

September 26, Staurday 2009 rated 2.5 (really bad day, depressed due to drug use and no new roommate.)

Today was a bad, bad, bad day.  I found out today that I would not be able to move to Franklin St. with the two young people I met.  I am very bummed out, spent the day with Kelly, smoked, and felt shitty.  This is the worst news I’ve had in a long time.  I feel terrible about it.  I feel like I’ve done something to bring this along–I’ve been pretty bad with the drugs since returning to Oshkosh, so I’m depressed.  I’ve started 100 mg. Amitriptelenyne with 10 mg. Lexapro just to see if anything helps.

Intake:  ø day 3, alcohol

September 23, Wednesday 2009 (neglecting journals, moving is stressful)

I have really been neglecting my journal entries lately.  I’ve just been too F**ked up to make them lately.  Things have just been out of control since I got back from up north, but they are starting to calm down a little bit now.  Work is still going well, but I’m moving this week and it’s a little stressful.

(Matt didn’t record his intake for this journal, sorry.  Matt’s mom)

Sept 20/21/22, 2009 Sunday to Tuesday rated 4 (Spared no expense to get high, hit the ground hard)


I have been completely out of control these last few days with all of the drugs; I have spared no expense, just started shooting everything in sight from oxies to morphine to methadone… I missed work for the first time ever today because I was ” sick”, actually just too high to make my shift.  I really hit bottom hard this time.Intake morphine, OC methadone, smoked

Sept. 22, Tuesday 2009

April is falling apart too, showed up at my place again just f**ked up and out of her mind.  I got pretty f**ked up too.  I’ve been depressed and have just hit the ground so hard this time around——–Free fall.

Intake:  oxyco IV, suboxone, somoked

Sept. 15 thru 19, Home visit rated 7.5 overall (home at last to find a drunk, and I worked a lot)


Tuesday 2009, 20 mg valium, Wednesday 30 mg valium, Thursday smoked and 40 mg valium, Saturday Ø

A great week at home, if not for it being absolutely crazy.  I kept sober.  I used valium for once or twice  a day, and it helped keep me level.

Dick and Mom are now undoubtedly broken.  I spent a lot of time with Dick drunk; It’s horrible to see them in this shape.  It makes me depressed.  I can tell they are both miserable, and really want out–but don’t quite know how to get out.

The kids seemed happy and well-adjusted.  The foster child, Mikayla, is quite bright, thoughtful, and polite child–has a lot of potential.

I hated coming back from home today. I didn’t take my TCA (anti-depressant), so I was craving opiates like crazy!  The first thing I did was walked to my dealer place.  He had nothing, but April sold me half and 80, which I actually snorted, along with smoking a bunch of weed.  Oh, before April came over I went to Pat’s (future roommate) and smoked a whole bunch of dope, with the upstairs’ neighbors too.  Even got a couple of 40 oz High Life and drank that.  The urge to get completely intoxicated was strong after seeing my mom’s husband they way he was.  I don’t know why, but I threw 10 full days of sober out the window the minute I got back to Oshkosh.  Need to find a better way because this plan of mine just isn’t working.

I totally f**ked my Caprice up by trying to get it out of the forest.  Too bad.  I almost wanted to keep it, but instead I got $160 from _____.  He gave me $140 up front, and the next time I come back to ______ he’ll give me the other $20 and catch me a buzz, great to look forward to.

Didn’t get to see any of my friends.  Mom was out of her mind on that one too. (I refused to let him go visit friends. Adamant about this being a ‘home’ trip and not a ‘party’ trip with a place to flop, I laid down the law. I was really good at that…, uhgh.  I was really Nazi about the whole trip being about visiting and not re-visiting …. However, I did know full well that a trip home meant a trip back into temptation. I was just so careful not to allow for an easy slide down into the depths. Little did I know he was already deep in the mud. This is probably because I was fighting my own battle with the new husband’s mud. After what he said were years of sobriety ended up being days after the ‘I do’s”. I had my hands full, full of mud. Matt’s mom) Overall, I worked hard, hung out with Dick and the girls mostly.  I saw how bad things have gotten with the alcohol and Dick, I saw also that for the most part how they play it off pretty well, still upward mobile; they don’t seem to have money issues at all.

Saw grandma;  It was nice but hard to see her loosing her mind.

Sept. 14, Monday 2009 (so many dreams I would like to accomplish….)

Another good day today.  I woke up to an empty house, so I decided that I would help mom out by stacking some wood and splitting what was in back.  It felt nice to be drug free and outside in my old home.

Dick (my  husband) got home late afternoon and we worked on my Caprice a little bit, think we may be able to get that thing running well enough to sell, or possibly use in the future.

Dick and I also went out and got a big load of wood, for once I actually really enjoyed it.  Felt nice to be out in the woods.

Dick didn’t drink today, thankfully.  I feel so physically healthy it’s really nice not to be on the opiates.  I wish, pray, and hope I can come to terms with and continue sobriety.  I have so many dreams, so many plans that I would like to accomplish.

(A reminder to those out there: Matt hoped and planned, but didn’t accomplish these. My hope is for you. Hope is real and tangible. Hope is not a whim, a fleeting thought, a quickening of the heart; hope is a real understanding that this has potential. This is real. Please, make this happen–your dreams. Live them today!

Matt’s mom)

Sept 12 and 13, 2009 rated 5 and 7 (home)

This is a photo of the wood Matt cut for me when he came home on this day. He was so proud of how much he was able to get in one day that HE took the photo.

Sept 12 Saturday

Intake: Ø day 4, diazepan 30 mg

Sept. 13, sunday

Today was a great day indeed!! My ride home to _____ ended up being with Kelly.  I smoked with her and it just opened by eyes up to how beautiful everything around me was.  We listened to Morphine and had a really pleasant ride.  On August 9 I wrote a pretty scathing judgement about Kelly, and her grandson and his father.  I take a lot of that back now.  I misjudged the situation totally.  I didn’t appreciate just how complex our relationships with each other can be.

It’s great to see my mother and ____ again.  I’m convinced that he is having a battle with alcohol now.  This make me really sad, to see my mother, the stone-willed, rock-solid woman I remember, having to deal with this guy.  She always told me to marry well; she didn’t and is so shattered by that fact. I still and always will love her, regardless of her losing a hold on this life at some point. I still respect and love her. It’s just great to be home, an awesome feeling.

Intake:  Ø day 5, diazepam 20 mg

(Okay, so here starts the me part: I married this man I met at church. However, he ended up being a fake. I was truly devastated. Never being really took hard in my life, I got took. He was a non-drinker for the two years I knew him, for the 6 months we dated, and for the 2 months we courted. It was a lie. After a year with this, I was a crumbled mess. Matt saw this clearly as I cried and confessed my dilemma. He may have explained me as rock-solid, but I now see that this front was a mistake. What I should have done was be naked, be real, be me–human. I was always such a stupid symbol of the rock; I needed to show him more gravel. Damn! What the heck was I afraid of? I know, the truth–I wasn’t perfect. Well, not just that–I was just like him, a wonderful loser. Losing is great as it lets one sit back and ponder without the continuation of the game. Score on the board, we can all relax and consider the moves, the plays, the blocks, and the reality. No need to keep playing. Just be there eating pizza in the cafeteria with the team. I wish I did that more.

He was home then! He seemed so Matt, so calm and matt.  I had no idea of the storm raging.  Instead, I was concerned with getting firewood– my constant beloved chore. Finding escape in work, I lost myself in the scream of the chain, the crash of the branches, the ping of the sticks hitting my aluminum trailer– lost in Maslov’s 2nd level; Matt was at the higher one. Unfortunately, my voice echoed the scream of the chain telling him to buck-up– so unfortunate, so immature of me. But, somehow Matt relished this return to the homestead. Maybe this mundane has value. He, for once, welcomed it all. He, like I, was lost in the repetitive mundaness of survival. He was home!

Matt’s mom)

Sept 10 and 11, Thursday/Friday 2009 5/7 (got a raise, lots of parties, optimistic, Mom’s rant on hedonism)

Sept. 10

Intake: Ø day 2 (This was the day I buried Matt one year later. Odd that he did not enter anything except his intake, truly odd.)

Sept. 11

Today started off kind of sour.  I could really feel the depression start to come back, but once I got to work everything was a lot better.  I GOT A RAISE, I think to 8.50, which would be just great.  Work was quite busy, one of the busier night that I’ve worked.

After work I went and spent time with my new roommates; we smoked and had a few drinks.  It was really a lot of fun. We took a walk through the student neighborhoods; wow, Friday night, there was madness in every direction.  A lot of parties going on for sure–never really experienced that scene before.  It was really nice.  I am really optimistic about this new situation.

Intake: Ø day 3, smoked

(I was taken aback reading this. Matt is a hedonistic creep in most people’s eyes, yet he never experienced college party culture. Honestly, we just never did this–party to party. It just never occurred to us country people. What a dichotomy–Matt: drug addict, who never experienced the party lifestyle./ Upwardly mobile America who knew it well. Matt who could write a well-developed paragraph full of voice and depth./ Upwardly mobile America, who can’t write a paragraph without copying it from the internet, who can’t express a true thought, who can’t see past the leash that feeds them, who live for the next Twitter on Justin Bieber vomiting, who travel to foreign countries believing they will be honored and coddled, who consume more calories than the average beef cow, not satisfied with a 3000 sq ft house and a $40,000 car/personal computer/personal protection device/sexual expression of their fantasies… .  AND, this guy is happy to be getting how much an hour? Really? He is happy with that! Happy! Who is hedonistic now?

Sorry for being a bit terse. I just had another encounter today. Someone was going on about how parents don’t do this and that, and the kids become drug addicts. The guy who said it was honestly about #600, and I am not talking about his value. Maybe instead of sending all those flyers on education reform we should just send out a whole bunch of mirrors.

Matt’s mom)

Sept. 9, Wed. 2009 rated 5 (What my mind will do to me, home in 4 days)

Another day, another dollar.  I’m broke now, after my wonderful little drug-run of  the last few days.  Feel shitty about that still.  Whatever, it’s over now, and I have been shown quite severely what my mind will make me do to myself from time to time.  Can’t happen again.

Otherwise the day was average. I slept like 12 hours; drink+antidepressants will do that to a person.  I started the amiltryptelene again, depression was creeping in again today.  I know this time at least the medication will help with that.  I have enough to last the next 2 weeks at least.  After that I’ll be getting some more; just hope I can do a good long run without any narcs–get back on track.

I’ll be home in 4 days time, can’t wait.

Intake: Ø thank God, day 1

Sept. 8, Tuesday 2009 rated 3.75 (disgust, failure, shame, “THIS NEEDS TO STOP NOW”)

Today I betrayed myself yet again.  I rushed off and bought yet another 40.  A complete repeat from last month, 165 dollars down the f**king tube yet again. Something is different though.  This time I have a genuine feeling of disgust, of failure and shame.  This time I wasn’t physically addicted, it was only my mind this time, I completely betrayed myself.  Sick, I feel sick, and sad, and down.  The OC didn’t make me feel any better this time, it was terrible feeling. I got so angry at myself that I broke every one of my needles, threw them all way–the one bright spot in the day.

I’ve just realized, right this second, that the junkie thing just isn’t working anymore, not at all. I am a ruined individual–I have no real friends, I don’t have a real job despite being moderately intelligent, I haven’t been to Ukraine or back in school, I feel like shit all of the time just trying to live with myself. THIS STOPS NOW. THIS ENDS BEFORE MY REAL LIFE BEGINS.

Intake: (40 mg oxyco IV F**K!)

(I wonder who has been through this also, this feeling of absolute failure. I also wonder why addicts are not given empathy if not simpathy. Why would anyone curl his lip at someone who so wants to be free? Is the reason possibly due to the degree of judgment already leveled at addicts? Is this man really so hard to hug?

Our society would throw cuffs on him and a label–criminal. Yes, what he is experiencing is criminal. He was given opiods at a young age. Someone should go to jail for that. ….

Matt’s mom)

Sept. 7, Monday 2009 rated 4 (Deep disappointment in self, shooting up yet again, how to be human)

Failure today.  I broke my promise to myself and called my dealer.  Paid a high price for two 30’s of morphine, and then bought a 40 of OC later.  I’m really disgusted with myself.  That’s $70 down the damn toilet, and a needle in my arm, again.  Can’t do it, just need to cut my ties with Joey; he will absolutely sabotage me and these efforts to improve and fix my life.  I got really high, but what does that mean anymore?  Nothing.  It’s all a waste!!!!  The worst part is that tomorrow I feel like I’m going to be buying more, wasting my lead in the cash department.  I took a break from my amiltriptelene and that has something to do with it.  Tomorrow morning I’m off to Biolife.  Hopefully, my shooting today doesn’t sabotage that.  Nope, change in plans.  I’ve put too many holes in my arms to attempt Biolife.  I’m just deeply disappointed in myself today– tomorrow I make my stand.

Intake:  50 mg hydroco oral, 60 mg morphine IV, 120 mg oxyco IV

(My LORD, can anyone hear the pain and guilt in this man’s mind? Such disappointment, such guilt, and such failure. One can only experience so much failure for so long and then what? What? I feel such empathy for my son by reading his struggles. I had no idea. Why did I have no idea? Why was I so out of touch? I know why but don’t want to tell myself. Matt didn’t want to tell himself the hard truth either. The hard truth is that we are told by the world–teachers, parents, media, and neighbors– that we need to be perfect, need to be like everyone else, need not to stick out as needy. However, I would bet that every last person reading this is just that. We are all failures. Isn’t that wonderful? Such freedom comes from understanding that every last single one of us is a failure at something big: Marriages, jobs, social situations, physique, personal relationships, sexual intimacy, and raising our children to name a few.

So, what the hell was I thinking? Okay, so he never needed to need. Was that really a favor? NOT! Coming from a very poor, hillbilly family, all myself or anyone ever wanted to do was survive. We dreamed of paying for real clothing, we wondered what avocados tasted like (not that special, more like greasy broccoli and boiled eggs creamed), we wondered what people did on golf-courses besides picking worms for fishermen, we wondered what air-conditioning was like… I took that all away and let him feel that it was all about comfort. Well, for me it was. I had a dream, and Matt and me were darn well going to live it, by golly. I thought I was such a success as a provider. I knew I was lacking on some private matters though.

I knew myself to be a failure on several levels. I wanted him to be different. But, I knew what I wanted from my closest confidants–a break and some acceptance. So, why was I so willing to tell him to straighten up, get another job, man-up so to speak? Okay, so I was man enough for any man, even though I am a woman. I cut my own firewood, built my own stupid house, got my own college education,  can do a bunch of worthless stuff like hunt birds and deer, and make my own sauerkraut… survival stuff (growing up poor it was all about food and warmth), yet I was unable to see that my son was starving. My focus was off. I wanted him to be good at what I was good at, surviving. Maybe I just was looking at the only thing I knew how to do and was pressing toward that. However, he was starving on a different level, a level I was not in tune to. I am now. I wanted him to change and what happened was a change in me. I am so thankful. I am so much more balanced now. I now see people differently. I now see people as not just carbs and environment, but as emotional.

If anyone out there is starving, let me know as I now know something important and am more than willing to be a part of this team effort called life. I am willing to share my food, now–We have tons of carbs in this country and very little soul food. I am growing a green garden just brimming with soul food lately. Ultimately, I have learned that to be happy, adjusted, self-controlled,… one needs to be answering to other’s needs.

In fact, just tonight I had a rain cloud pass over the soul-food garden with my two daughters. After spending late nights running to basketball games followed by my work toward a MA, they were a bit lacking on the whole “family” team effort and this the-world-against-us sort of soul. They were just so into their Facebook, their time, and their hearts. After a “loud discussion” on mom’s needs and their responsibility to take on this burden, I received a few tearful hugs and hopefully some help in pulling this sledge along the trail. Even though we all looked a bit forlorn, I believe they are closer to true happiness. As a couple of tweens they are seeing that considering mom and working towards a group-happy means familial happiness. The group needs to stick close. I am trying to teach my kids that being a family means being sensitive to everyone’s needs. I am being more transparent as to mine in hopes that they will see me as needy too, sensitive too, and faulted too. I want them to see the truth about me and not a monument to an unreal goal. In doing this, I hope they will be more willing to let me into their future and current failures as a shared event and not a shameful failure. I want them to be happy little failures that keep on trying and loving the battle.

I could have kept my own hurts to myself and let them believe that my whole purpose in life was to slave over their every desire, their every want, and their every need. But, Matt taught me something. Now, don’t think that he was spoiled. He was not even close to spoiled. He sweated over a mountain of log piles, stapled lots of insulation, moved plenty of dirt piles, and went without most often. However, one thing I never did was let him share in the honest load of self-denial for the sake of others. I never let him feel that burden of hunger if things were not planted and tended in the garden (I felt that); I never let him see the ravages of those who lost house and food (those family members where covered and explained for decencies’ sake), I never let him see the suffering of those trapped in mud holes of life, and most importantly I never let him SHARE in my suffering to provide, struggle, strategize.

As you can see, I have another plan now called share. I am learning to share and learning to voice more. Matt taught me that. I need to be more like him. He may have lost the war, but his battles are winning still. I hope I have said something of value to anyone reading. This is so difficult to explain in one short article on a blog. Therefore, I will try to summarize: Share in the load with your loved ones. Share in your needs and failures openly. Life is hard on purpose. Open those channels that allow for sharing this hardness and allow for failures.

I was such a failure. I never really knew that life was about learning to maneuver the mud holes. I was so focused on how to stay out of them. But, mud holes are the reality. He was just too in tune to reality, just too sensitive, just too human. And, I was just too into survival to notice. God forgive me! I gave birth to Your perfect son and only knew how to survive. I didn’t know how to be human, which involves a lot of greasy mud.


Matt’s mom)

Sept. 5 and 6, Sat. and Sun. 2009 rated 5 (lounged around napping, roommate nice)

Saturday. Intake: 40 mg hydroco oral


Uneventful day today.  John was in a good mood, finally got over the break-up, I think.  First time he’s been genuinely nice in a few months.  I lounged around all day, eating vikes and napping on and off.  Relaxing, nothing more substantial than that.

Intake:  65 mg hydorco, oral

Sept. 4, Friday 2009 rated 6.5 (Burn cruise, want to fall in love and travel, getting serious about life)

Interesting day today–April called and propositioned me to take a burn cruise.  I agreed as long as she could get here and we could smoke before 1 pm (I always alot at least 3 hours to “air out” before work).  Ended up that she didn’t even get here until 1:15 or so.  We didn’t start smoking until 1:15, AND on our way from April’s parents’ house we were “caught” by April’s boyfriend, Craig.  She must have argued with him for 30 minutes!  I thought I would be late for sure, but I made it to work just on time and still a tad bit stoned.  Work went really quickly for some reason, which is great.  Went well in general too.  Tess is working on Fridays now, but it doesn’t bother me all too much anymore.

I feel a new energy lately, since I started the anti-depressant.  I feel like a new phase in life is starting for me.  I’m really happy and for the first time in a long time I feel optimistic about the future.  I’m even starting to think about the Ukraine again, would love to see that country and also see Irina again, maybe make some new friends, maybe fall in love again.  Its my next big plan, to go there, has been now for a couple years.  But, with all the problems I’ve had with drugs, I guess I was just never serious enough about it.  I feel this beginning to change, slowly.  I need to keep up with being mostly sober.  This is the key, keeping my money.  I haven’t talked to my dealer in over 10 days, and I don’t really miss him all that much– happy that he’s not getting my money anymore for sure.  Since I got paid I have spent my money on only good things:  bought good food, bought some music for the first time in a long time, and on Tuesday I’m going to be paying off one chunk of my loan with Cash in a Flash, FINALLY!  I’m going to be working hard to keep things going in the right direction.

Intake:  105 mg hydoroco oral, smoked

Sept. 3, Thursday 2009 rated 7 (Got vikes and new place to live)

Great day today!  I walked all over hell to get errands done, went to Biolife finally, got set up for a physical.  Got paid, got my vikes, and I GOT A NEW PLACE TO LIVE!!  I am really happy; I will be living with Pete, the prep cook from work.  Damn, he is one cool dude, totally on my level, one of “my” people.  I hung out with him today and we totally clicked!  I am super-happy about this situation; it’s going to be just great!

Intake:  65 mg hydoco oral, smoked,  paid $397.00

Sept. 2, Wed. 2009 rated 5

Today was a day full of walking.  Man, I must have walked 4 miles or more today.  First, down to the pharm. to try to get my prescriptions filled, which didn’t even work, so I ended up having another sober day–my sixth straight, which was nice to notice.

Work went well. It was slow; I was really glad for that because I didn’t have a full crew.  Work in general has been deteriorating though I find that the owner is actually quit stingy, if not out-right greedy.  And, my work is constantly scrutinized, still no raise.  I suppose I should find another job, today I think I will fill out a few apps on my long walkabout, again.

Depression is gone, I’m happy to report.  Anitriptelene really works well, not only that but my cravings for opiates have gone down quite a bit, still there, but really diminished.

Intake:  Ø, day 6

September 1, Tuesday 2009 rated 4.5 (Little does Matt know he has exactly 1 year to live)

Today I had no drugs whatsoever!!  I’m actually quite proud of myself for making it 5 whole days now–amil finally kicked in, and my depression has all but vanished.  I’m doing well.

Tonight was terrible at work.  I just couldn’t seem to please Elta with anything I did; she gave me the evil eye several times.  Really sucked.  I felt like I  was going to get fired all night!!  I sure hope I can continue getting good hours after tonight.

The only bad part of the day was work.  Everything else went fine.  I’m feeling much better now.  I know I’ll be getting high on Thursday and for a few days after that, but I have made a commitment not to purchase drugs, unless prescribed to me.  That should solve a lot of my problems I think.

Intake: ø, detox day 4, smoked

(God doesn’t afford us the burden of knowing the exact number of days we have here. I wonder if Matt had known this how he would have proceeded. Would this have been the impetus to completely lose himself in hedonistic behavior, or would he have started a bucket list ? To those out there, what would you do differently if you knew your day’s number, or if you knew the number of a loved one’s days? What would you do?

Would you go on a diet, like Matt did here, not really willing to shed the cocoon, become a butterfly, and eat the nectar of flowers instead of slugging along on buds and leaves? I am convinced that those who really honestly want to change cannot go on diets. Diets restrict the bad while never actually removing the need to be fed somewhat regularly. So, if you have a dream, a bucket list, a butterfly inside your cocoon, what are you doing today that you will regret if your tomorrows are cut short? If the tomorrows of your loved one are cut short?

Matt’s mom)

August 31, Monday 2009 rated 5.75 (detoxing and vitamins, depression lifting, summer wasted )

I HAD NO OPIATES TODAY WHAT-SO-EVER!!  I feel fine, a little lethargic, but nothing major, barely noticeable.  I’m really surprised that I’ve made it 4 whole days now of DETOX and I haven’t gone nuts, or suffered all that much.  I’ts been quite an easy detox.   I think the vitamins and amiltrip have a big role in that.  I hope that I continue to feel well, and i don’t get surprised with detox later on.

Hung out with April for a good portion of the afternoon.  We did a burn-curise, and after that we hugn out at the dentist office, a real nice way to spend the afternoon before work.

The depression seems to be lifting at the moment anyways.  Somebody cares enough to pray for me I guess.  I hope for continued sunny days!

Good bye summer 2009, another one wasted…

Intake: Ø, Detox day 4, smoked

August 30, 2009 Sunday rated 4.75 (drunk, friends, detox)

I’m writing this half-drunk, decided to have a few Kessler’s, just to feel a little better.  Still horribly depressed.  Really hope the amiltriptelene kicks in sometime soon.

Hug out with Dave and Kelly today.  Smoked a little.  Helped Dave sit up a tent; it was sunny out, but still a little bit on the cool side.  I talked with Rob tonight; he has lost his job because of some bullshit.  I felt so bad for him and his family that I ended up getting depressed myself.

Chatted with Renee and Kimmy on Facebook.  They tried lifting my spirits, but I still feel down.

I’m on day 3 of my detox.  I ate some more darvocet today, so I hope I’ll not hit bottom so hard.

I wish I could just be happy.

Intake: DETOX, day 3, 200 mg propx oral, smoked


August 29, Saturday 2009 rated 5 (detox and amitriptelene)

Matthew in the fall with little sissy. How he dreaded the on set of fall as this meant summer was over

Detox is going quite well; I’m really surprised that I’m not hurting more.  Let’s see, here is how I’m beating it today–100 mg amitriptylene and a centrum vitamin at bed-time.  I’m making sure to eat well all the time, and today I was able to score some darvocet; boy does that ever help with the physical symptoms, but it surely doesn’t ever get you high.  I was also able to smoke with Kelly, and that helps with some thanks too.

Today was a cold, dreary, shitty, and rainy day outside–felt like fall.  Tonight is the first night that I am sleeping with my windows closed since probably May.  Work was work, nothing spectacular happened.  The amitriptelene is helping the depressions I think, so I wasn’t nearly as down today as the past few days.  I’m looking forward to the week ahead now a little more.

Intake: Detox, day 2, 300 mg propox, smoked

August 28, Friday 2009 rated 4 (crying)

Today was another depressing, horrible day.  I sat at Cindy’s until 2:30 just feeling all crying, and sad, and down-right lethargic.  Barely made it through work. April (luckily) spit me 2 of the vikes I gave her the other day, which just took the edge off, made work just bearable. I don’t quite have full AS, but tomorrow I should, and I have to work! Damn!.  April also smoked a bowl with me in the parking lot at work that helped a little.  I really hope the amitriptylene is going to help.  I’d like to kick WAY down, and get clean for a few days.

Intake:  10 mg hydroco, oral, smoked (day .5)

Augus 27, Thursday 2009, rated 3.5 (Very depressed)

Had the day off today, but it was still horrible.  I felt terribly depressed all day long, felt like crying most of the day also.  I thought I had enough narcs to get off real good, but it didn’t satisfy all day for some reason.  I felt something strange, a twinge of AS creeping in.  It shouldn’t start until tomorrow or Saturday.  I think it’s all in my head really; this depression is playing tricks on my damn mind.

Talked with mom today.  I’ll be going home Sept 13th!! Hope I can get clean by then, or stable on something, but prefer clean.  It’s going to be super hard.  I start tomorrow, and I figure at the rate I’ve been going through the summer it will take me about 7 or 10 days to get completely off. That’s 7 to 10 days of being just god-awful sick.  I started taking the amitriptylene today, for withdrawal as well as depression.  Hope tomorrow is better.

Intake:  100 mg oxyco, 10 mg hydroco, 400 mg propxyplene, oral

August 26, Wednesday 2009 rated 4.75 (dope sick, suicidal, true love)

Today marks the end of my work week, kinda.  I have the day off tomorrow, and then it’s back to work for the weekend.  I think I may have just enough narcotics to get one last good buzz tomorrow  That methadone really did f**k my tolerance up!  After tomorrow I’ll be dope sick, and I think that this will be “the big one” because I have no money, my prospects being dry anyways, and Cindy has started to guard her bottle a lot better.  It’s always zipped up or locked away now.  So, that avenue is gone.   I may just be sick for a whole week, or I could try to finally conquer this damn thing, do something with this life.

I looked at a new apartment today with this gay guy Kyle as a roomie.  He seems nice, albeit VERY gay!  I hope I get it, but I doubt that I will.  They’re checking C-cap (online criminal history) for this one, as always in this situation: I’m F**ked!

I’ve been keeping up with Pela since December (Matt’s big-time love from Poland).  She’s doing well, and it makes me so sad that I can’t be with her.  That is the one thing that I really regret in my life so far–messing that up with her.  She was great for me, and I believe that if I had been straight when I went to visit her that I would still be with her today.  If I was straight in general that is, kept straight anyways.  She was writing to me tonight that she is about to embark on a month-long trip through Europe with her new love, spending most of her time about a desperate longing feeling… I see everyone around me doing so well, going places, doing things I long to do, and then I see myself; it just drives me deeper into my hole of depression.  Why won’t I snap out of this?  Am I really bound to my father’s blood, father’s ways?  I always thought I could be better than him, but so far it isn’t shaping up.  I’ve almost given up.  I’m ALMOST suicidal.  Things are just terrible lately.

Intake:  60 mg hydroco, 20 mg oxyco, oral*

*I’m way up, both in my per day and length of use.  I’m going to be getting really sick after tomorrow, I just know it, dread it.

(Matt didn’t know his father very well, only seeing the man a handful of times in his life. This man died in his forties of alcoholism though. I remember putting Matt on the plane to go meet him as an older child (He barely remembered him from his toddler meeting). The whole family welcomed Matt and stayed in touch ever after, even though he was only 12 at the time and not very able to email–Facebook was not even created at that point. Being a very outgoing child, Matt did stay in touch with the whole clan, a very nice one at that.

One very interesting point of this visit with his father was about addiction at its core; this man actually gave his son a cigarette ‘just so he could try one’. Matt told me this years later as Matt also was trying to understand why his dad would do that. Why would he do that? Why?

My deductions:

Addicts want others to also be addicted for comfort as birds of a feather flock together.

Addicts want others to feel comfortable and believe that others must not be comfortable without those same addictions.

Addicts cannot relate to anyone who has not also experienced the addictive substance, and in an effort to relate, Matt’s dad was asking his son to be more like him.

Well, after that Matt did start smoking cigarettes, slowly, but the door was open as his own DNA link had given him the impetus. I am wondering how much nature really plays in addiction. He certainly did not experience the nurture side of it. However, he did grow up without a father. Growing up without that positive male model, Matt was prone to an unstable self-image. He just didn’t have someone to model, someone to emulate as a man.

As for Pela, Matt’s poems are all for her, all. His heart also led him to Poland for a month in an attempt to reunite with her, though she had a relationship in progress. Now that takes balls in my estimation. Well, maybe not balls, maybe just true love. Matt wanted to be with her even though she was hanging on another man’s arm.

She was quite graceful inviting Matt and touring him through the country at that time. Matt and I toured Europe ourselves when he was younger. This trip was accompanied by a monkey though. Surprisingly, Matt saved enough money to go and hang out in Europe for a month even considering his opiate bill.  However, morphine was not only legal it was cheap in Poland. Matt pretty much toured as though walking through opium wisps and fields of poppies. The trip ended well, the tour was pleasant, but the result was final. Pela was cemented at friend status, and Matt was crushed. She had her lover and Matt his–opioids.

She and I still communicate today though. She did love Matt deeply. She just decided that she would not be able to have a stable and healthy relationship with both Matt and opiates. His heart was divided. I am certain that all who have affairs of the heart when deeply in love with another end up in the same predicament. Just can’t have your pill bottle full and swallow them too.

Matt’s mom),

August 25, Tuesday 2009, rated 4.5 (Terrible nightmare!)

Cousin and Matt

Awoke today from a horrible nightmare, just terrible.  I dreamed that I was in a house in ________(where Matt lived close to home), with my mother and my cousin Brad.  My mother was yelling at me about my habit; she was trying to take my kit bag full of my needles away from me, which I fought vigorously.  I grabbed my kit bag and ran across a beautiful field to my grandmother’s old house on _______ Rd.  I ran down to the lake and tried to hide my kit bag in the old boat-house there.  My mother and Brad appeared, as if they ran after me, and attempted to take the kit bag. I don’t know why this was so horrible, but it really was–put me in a depressed mood all morning long.  I hated it.

Other things happened today, but nothing of consequence.  This is all I care to write tonight.

Intake:  30 mg hydroco, 130 mg oxyco, oral

(Driving Matt out of Oshkosh and to his dream-achieved Madison apartment, I first heard of this dream. He told the dream in much more detail at that point. We both talked in-depth about dreams we had experienced, but this one was still upsetting a year later to him. Dreams, well certain ones, do speak to us, most certainly. This dream was haunting to him. Yes, it may have been induced by his earlier night’s thoughts on home and the addiction he was battling. However, if one looks at the symbolism there, the struggle there, and the fear there, one might understand better the mind of addiction.

Addiction, I am beginning to believe, is rooted in fear and control. Running away through a beautiful field to his grandmother’s house, Matt may have been surfacing in that deep river of subconscious–that darkly slow water that meanders through our minds and carries us along together with real-time of the unreal fabric of a slowly emerging consciousness. Have you ever stopped and dove into your river? Have you ever looked a bit deeper, a tad detached, or a slightly-outside in relation to the unreal side of reality? This is where we really exist and where addiction exists. It exists in the most intangible yet most perceptible true self. This is the self that lies down in the darkness, alone to find peace and rest, yet rest is not there as the river of our self, our essence, is all that is left once our physical bodies give in, and we may be pitifully aware of our imperfections to the point of unrest. We are alone with our true essence, there, floating or sinking, moving or caught in an eddy, cold or refreshed, experiencing metaperception of our lives as they flow.

Addiction is the response to that river. Too deep and dark we become afraid. Too fast and cold we become unsure of the course and try to control the minutia. If this sense is too strong, if those who feel too deeply and sense too emotionally, it then flows into waking life. But, that is not acceptable and not compatible with the job of conscious life; therefore, it must be dulled and subdued. Sensitivity to noise has a drug as does sensitivity to touch. But, sensitivity to the spiritual essence of life only has something that dulls the senses–depressants. A deep sense of our own fallibility, our own sin, our own humanness is painful and cruel to those o fus who sense this. Matt sensed himself and the world around him intensely. He turned to something that made him feel less human, less lost in the river we all are traveling.

I am beginning to believe that his addiction to something that dulls the senses was a response to his ability to feel completely the ills of life. I wonder if other addicts also feel this sense of fear and loss of control by the dark river, deep water, powerful current that carries us along. Are those who feel this in true reality actually more blessed?

Considering Matt’s fear, his cousin who took him hunting/fishing/dirt-biking and myself, who encouraged and coerced him to reconsider his path, were the two enemies he was hiding from, the two who threatened his addiction, who chased him through the beautiful field. However, we were not really us but a part of Matt. We were a part of him that was trying to attack that area. Was this his fear of the part of him that said “grow up”? Was grandma the part of him that wanted to stay a child, wanted to hide from continuing on the river toward the unknown of adultness? I am not sure, but I do know that this dream brought his head to the surface of the darkness enough to breathe in the cold, dank air of reality at the same time, and the mix was melancholic, the glassy mirror at the surface an area too frightening to cross if even in a dream.

Matt’s mom)


August 24, Monday 2009, rated 4 (miss home, change of season depression coming on)

Sad, lonely and depressed today.  I don’t quite know why.  Perhaps it’s my rooming situation coupled with the first hint that the seasons are changing.  I hate the end of summer, not so much the beginning of fall, but just the end of the wonderful warmth and the wonderful warm sun on my face–just the knowledge that winter is fast approaching.  I do hate winter, with a passion.  I miss my mother, I miss the (town name) homestead, I NEED to get home for a visit, but I’m not sure if I can afford it with all of these damn bills I’m juggling–if I had a car, a license it would be different, but I hold myself back with the drug trouble I’m in.  I need to at least get it under-control financially, kill this loan at the Pay-Day loan place, just buy what I can each payday and just be done with it–get that (down ever?) and get my license back, and a car  I would be set then.  I need to do this quickly if I’m ever to make it out of this damn hole I’m in.

John has been a lot nicer lately, almost sensing that I have plans to move and leave him alone and in want of the funds I’ll take with me. Maybe he’s realized that he would have quite a problem in finding another roomie as poor as myself whose willing to deal with the shape of this house, the train, and his personality in general.  I plan to line another place up, and then have a serious talk with him about my position in this household.  Tell him I’m set and ready to get out.  And, then see what he says, put the ball in his court so to speak.

Work was slow tonight.  I’m getting tired of working there for what I make, so hard, head cook now, and I eat from the food pantry–such a damn shame.  I have to look for better work, find it and then have a bargaining chip with them too!

I need to snap out of this lazy depression and get pro-active about my life here pretty quick.

Intake:  85 mg hydroco, oral

August 23, Sunday 2009 rated 7 (Becca, roommate, screwed up tolerance)

Matt is standing on that cliff. Is that cliff methadone? He looks so small compared to it. However, isn’t the view grand?

Today was a good day.  Becca came down from Green Bay to spend a few hours here.  That was a lot of fun; we talked a lot, but didn’t really connect on a romantic level as i would’ve hoped.  She is a beautiful girl, and I was hoping that I may have been able to make some love with her.  But, I didn’t press anything–and nothing happened.  I feel awkward anyways around women when it comes to initiating sex, always have been.  They usually have to press on me first, and those ones are usually the crazy whores anyways. Whatever, it’ll happen for me someday!!

The other big story of the day is that I’m actively searching for a new room, and I like what I see as far as Craigslist goes–it looks like where ever I go that I will be saving money, and I think that if Joh isn’t a dick about giving me sept. rent back that by this time next week, I may be penning this from a new location with a roommate that I may actually like!!  John is just outrageous in his horribleness–selfish, hateful, obtuse, a liar, and a hypocrite.  I’ve tried so hard to be a good friend to him, but it just hasn’t been any use. He is determined to be alone and hateful.  I guess he just decides that he wants to continue to live this lonely existence, taking out his insecurities on me or anyone else around him, but no longer on me!  I have had nothing but bad people experiences since I’ve been in Oshkosh; it seems that people are bent on being unhappy and unfriendly in this place.  I can hardly stand it any longer!!   I need not only to move out of this house, but of of this town!

I’ve been hitting that damn methadone pretty hard lately.  F**ked up my entire tolerance!  Tonight I’m trying a cocktail of methadone, percocet, and vicodin just to see if it works to overcome the methadone tolerance I’ve already had.  I would like methadone  if it was the only thing that I had access to, but if I try to get off on anything else then it’s all f**ked; that’s why I don’t like it.  Plus, it’s hard to come off of.  I hear the AS (Abstinence Syndrome) is more severe with methadone.  I guess I’ll find out.

Intake:  25 mg hydroco, 60 mg oxyco, 20 mg methadone, oral

(Junkies…lost in trying to find their way out. I can hear it so precisely here as Matt did not want to take methadone, did not want to lose himself in the drugs, and did want to just feel normal.

Anyone out there understand what Matt was writing? I thought methadone was a government program designed to help addicts get free. However, from what my son wrote here, he and others believe that it is very difficult to kick, more so than the original addiction it was designed to replace.

Maybe that is it. As a true critic of government programs, I am concerned that this program is like welfare. Welfare is quite the money machine in actuality. Just think of all the jobs it produces for government employees. Just think of all the souls who have been convinced that the government is their father, brother, savior, and caretaker. Just think about their votes. Would any government addict even consider casting a vote for someone who might put them in a position of control, in a position of adult responsibility, in a position of fear without the fine nectar of the Lotus Eaters? Is methadone what Odysseus was fed? Is it really that difficult to gather the troops, hop in the ship, and sail on to the real battle at hand–life?

Not informed as to how much this program spends and how many addicts are able to kick the habit, I may be musing in error. However, I call upon my muses out there to sing the truth.

Matt’s mom)

August 22, Saturday 2009 rated 3 (argument with roommate)

Wow, really bad day today.  Since the beginning of summer my roommate/ landlord John has just become more of an ass, more of a control freak, more of a hypocrite each day–it’s to the point where I’ve just been out-right avoiding this guy whenever possible.  I’ve spent a lot of alone time im my room lately.  Anyways, I’ve come to the point where I’m tired of being treated like shit for no reason by this guy.  I get treated like I’m his guest instead fo a paying resident of this house.  He walks all over me, and I have just been letting it happen because I hate any confrontation, but everyone has their limits!  Today I was accused of using his shaving cream, which I didn’t, and I finally stood up for myself, just let him have the full brunt of my defense, and it caught him off-guard, and he got really pissed and told me I should find another place to live, at which point I retreated a little (I  shouldn’t have; I should’ve been ready).  We proceeded to get into quite the argument/discussion about how things go around here/  At some point I brought up the fact that this guy smokes in his room after outlawing smoking n the house, AND telling me that I couldn’t even smoke in MY room. Now that caught him off guard, and he realized that he had been exposed as not only a hypocrite, but also as a bold-faced liar!  He knew it too.  He felt bad at begin caught ,not that he did it, just being caught.  He is such an idiot though.  I saw the ash tray through the open door in his room.  He tried accusing me again:  How did you know I was smoking in my room unless you were in there?  I told him, but I should have said “Idiot” at the end.  He’s always accusing me of stupid shit.  After realizing what the loss of $320 would mean to his bottom line he backed off ever so slightly, but the damage has been f**king done!  I’m out of this F**ker as soon as I can find a new situation!  In fact, I would ideally like to find a place sometime in the next 8 days, move all of my stuff out secretly, and then come Sept. 1 tell him to com e up with a refund of my damn $320!!!

I have to do something, I won’t be here passed Oct 1 unless he comes up with a pretty damn slick apology and a commitment to treat me with some respect, realistically though I should probably just get out despite what he may or may not do.  He’s always been a real negative asshole type guy. I’m tired of having to tip-toe around this place avoiding his horrible negative energy–it’s tiring.  I really have met few people as foolish, lazy, hypocritical, and mean-spirited as this guy is.  He is just a real waste of a human-being, a nobody who treats everyone around him with absolute contempt.  I think I’m out of here!

Intake:  50 mg methadone, oral

August 21, Friday 2009 rated 5.5 (roommate is depressed)

Today was normal again, neither bad nor good.  It was cold outside for August, a definite sign fall is on its way.  I have recently realized that my roommate John is severely depressed and that’s why I think he is super dick-head about everything.  Just now his dog, Hunter, scratched on my door wanting into my room!  THat NEVER happens, even his damn dog, which he’s owned for about a decade, doesn’t want to be around him–the dog was actually happy when I got home today.  This REALLY surprised me, the dog can feel the energy, and it’s negative!  I wonder if John will snap out of this or what will happen.

Work is going a lot better.  I’m starting to get respect from the rest of the staff, as well as respect from above for my hard work.  The only one that has yet to fall into line is Tess–Mac told me he spoke to her yesterday and told her that I was the boss now. We’ll see what she does next.

I have yet to get the percocet Cindy owes me, that’ll be a trip!  She’s more of a hypocrite by the day!

Intake:  45 mg methadone, oral

August 20, Thursday, 2009 rated 7 (day off so stoned, nightmares, demons and things to come)

Had the day off today, had one goal, which was to just get absolutely ripped high.  I did, in high style.  I once again spent all my extra cash on dope, which wasn’t much this week because last payday I trimmed so many of my other bills.  They were unavoidable this time around.  I went broke really quickly this week.  I’ve got Becky coming down, and now I need to sell my vicodin just to have some cash to spend with her.  I really hope that I can!

Spent a lot of good time with April today.  She was pill-hunting with me while also cashing our pay checks.  We bumped into one of her friends and got a bowl of really good weed.  I got so stoned!   Haven’t been that stoned in a long time!  Just riding around in the Riviera, no care in the world.  I haven’t even thought about probation lately.  I probably should give Linda a call.  I’ve been having some nightmares lately, about losing my room, about going to jail for five days, all kinds of stuff–I thing the methadone is giving me these bad nightmares!

Intake:  45 mg methadone, oral, smoked

Paycheck:  $390.00

(Have you ever had dreams/nightmares that are somewhat real, seem real, come true in the end? Matt had a strange connection with the ‘other’. As I am publishing the most personal and unbelievable stuff to most people, might as well tell all as this whole business is quite offensive to many and quite sweet to those few, and so sweet you are to me. Therefore, I might as well tell those things that will curl lips and flip hands off extended arms; I might as well turn heads. Matt’s journals receive likes, yes. Those who like Matt’s writings like the truth, naked as it is. Thankfully, these journals do not receive the reciprocal likes; those that didn’t read more than a paragraph and hit a button to get their button pushed as a pay back. Such vanity. Those few never even read it as most who really do happen upon this really don’t like it much at all. I can’t blame them as this is not about kittens being cute and a trip to an island paradise. This is about the opposite of paradise, Earth and being truly human and naked. This is about the real you inside us all. This is a stench and a reminder of our own failings, our own dirty humanness. Ever read anything by Swift? Being human is dealing with our own excrement, after all. No pictures of poop on blogs.  God said that the gospel is a stench to those that are dying: “To the one we are the fragrance of death unto death; and to the other the fragrance of life unto life. And who is sufficient for these things?” Reading the journals of a dead man, of a dead sinner, is a bit morbid for most, a bit easy to judge for many, and a bit prophetic for all–as we are all going to die, for sure, only way out. I find that death is a strange swear-word, a taboo, a reality that is unreal to most Americans.

Having lived in several foreign countries after growing up American, I was surprised that death was a warm conversation and a family friend to others. Mexico had to be number one on the list, Italy number two, and Spain number three. These people not only spoke with an unabandoned freedom concerning death, but also enjoyed these conversations as if stepping into heaven. They even displayed death for all in full-dress-uniform. I paraded by many a corpse while there–museums, churches with glass caskets, mummies, the newly deceased along road-sides (no sheets and layed like cord-wood for the passersby), and in front-page news with detached-heads along train tracks and all. They viewed death as part of life and sung to it as a young girl sings to her husband to come, though of a young age. They fantasized about the next life and the end of this one. They dreamed of death with a wantonness. As an American I was insulted. Such disrespect for such a private thing. Death was like sex– it shouldn’t be viewed or spoken of in polite company. Death was a thing of dreams, fantasies.

Matt had dreams. These dreams were real waking dreams followed by another waking dream. Once, I remember so clearly, I had a nightmare: my daughter was at the end of my bed in her toddler bed and a TV was positioned beyond. In my dream I was awakened to watch the TV. It was all fuzz, but a voice came out taunting me. Then a face appeared but it was without light, like opposite of light. I awoke again and walked the house to secure things and was met with the darkness of the TV in a man walking my house. In a scream I again awoke and went to my daughter with my hand. She was quiet, so I lay down again. Not minutes later she thrashed in her bed and called out in terror. So, I lay my hand on her and prayed to Jesus. She quieted. Moments later Matthew called out incoherent, dreamy rants while thrashing. I prayed again till all quieted and I fell back to sleep. The night was full of  darkness.

Upon waking and making morning coffee I asked my young son how he slept, not thinking my terrors were even shared here on Earth. Well, he told the most soul-drying story I have ever heard, and I have heard few. According to Matt he had a nightmare about a dark man and awoke to walk the house for water, so he went to the kitchen. As he walked he heard a voice from outside calling to him. As he looked toward the direction of the voices the outside world was dark. However, we had those horizontal blinds, cheap ones my grandma hung years before. I had them half closed. As he explained it he described a form outside, like a man, but his eyes were absolute darkness as if they sucked in the light. As Matt passed by the five windows in the living room, this dark man said things to Matt. The only thing I remember Matt telling me was him calling Matt “Mr. Lonely” and taunting him saying that he knew him. There were other things, but I just can’t remember. I do remember that it hurt Matt deeply, made him feel very bad about who he was.

Another interesting thing about this dream Matt explained was about the darkness. He said that it shone through the blinds on the floor, sort of like light does. He said he could see the darkness like we see light coming through on a sunny day. He even said he responded to the darkness, but I can’t remember what he said. It was just so very weird that I didn’t want to spend time holding it in my head. I do remember quite clearly how the conversation ended though. We compared our dreams of the night past and were both quite perplexed as we had both dreamed, awoke to a second nightmare in vivid detail, and awoke a second time. When Matt thought he was walking to the kitchen he was actually still dreaming. He awoke with great difficulty and lay in bed till morning afraid to go to sleep again.

Before he died he told me of other dreams he had, in absolute solemn seriousness. He also told me dreams he had while in jail–he spoke in these dreams to deceased loved ones. They spoke of what would happen to him, and these things did happen as the dream foretold. As the dream he is describing here, he did spend 5 days in jail, after which he died in several weeks.

I am not sure why I am even telling this to this computer. I am not sure why I dare to type this. Warnings against typing or speaking about this are everywhere, just everywhere. People are terrified to tell of these accounts as they say it gives Darkness more power. So, I ask God, the Lord, Jesus, Father, Holy Spirit to protect me and my family from attacks for saying this, saying the truth. God save me and us all. Darkness is real. I tell you, it is.

I am not sure about wanting to be in charge of everything, knowing everything, figuring all out, comprehending all things. Science promises us that, and refutes the existence of other dimensions, other worlds… However, Science said that margarine was good for me, that DDT would make the world better and that certain chemicals would help our pain. None of this was true. Science claims to have it all figured out, and without a video or a dead body we should not believe. However, I believe in the face of Science. I believe in the after world, I believe that good and evil are both there and both locked in combat. I believe that demons are real, very real. If you also believe they are, please give me support in telling this story and thanks. I have been hesitating to push that darn publish button for hours. I may just decide to delete this part.

In a few days it will be two years Matt is gone. So, thanks for reading the truth, even though I am still afaid to give names. It just feels good to tell the truth. I hope others will tell their stories and the truth. I would appreciate reading them. However, I imagine I will be quite unpopular for talking about ‘the darkness’. And, I do apoligize as I do not want to give it any more power than it already has. Like Matt, the only secrets I can’t keep are my own. Again, sorry if I creeped you out, but I just really need to tell this and am not sure why.

Matt’s mom)

August 19, Wednesday, 2009 rated 5.5 (coworkers are gay, Junkies are interesting)

Today was fairly boring and average.  I had five methadone this morning, took three and just chilled until I went to work.  Walked to Joey’s and picked up some loose tobacco; that was interesting.  Sat and talked with Kris and Bob for about an hour.  I always find junkie culture interesting, more so than regular people’s culture, the culture of money was never interesting to me.  The culture of poverty is, however, deep and real.

Work was interesting–Mac the boss of me in the kitchen started my day by bitching about piddley shit (as always).  He always ends his spiel by threatening my job.  I took care of this by talking to Elta after work, something I rarely do.  I even mustered up some tears to drive the point home!  I worked quite well and I think I have Elta on my side now, my job is more secure after today!

Found out also that the two best workers in the kitchen are gay!  Aretha and Jeff, both homosexuals!!  I knew Jeff was, but I wasn’t quite sure about Aretha.  Now I know!  I’m strangely okay with it; they are superb workers!

Intake:  50 mg. methadone, oral

August 18, Tuesday, 2009 (methadone too powerful, birthday, food pantry thank You God)

Got some Chantix from Bill this morning and brought it to Cindy; she was delighted I think.  I kinda buried the hatchet the her, for now. I hope she sees that she is wrong, but it doesn’t matter.  I’m just going to leave things where they lie hope it wont explode on me again!

Today is mom’s birthday!  I tried calling her to wish her well, tell her just how much I love and miss her, but she was busy with so many guests and we couldn’t talk long or candidly. Too bad, maybe tomorrow I will catch her not busy.

Went to the food pantry for the first time in my life today.  Got 26 pounds of different and wonderful stuff. Thanks to mom’s suggestion!  God helped me out today; thank You God for providing for me today, and thank You for the wonderful and kind-hearted people who make it happen.

Found out also that my morphine connection is gone.  In its place is now methadone, which scares me because it’s a much more powerful beast, harder to get off.  On the plus side I won’t have needle marks showing much anymore, and methadone lasts longer too.  We’ll see how this turns out.

Hung out with April today too.

Intake:  60 mg. morphine IV, 5 mg. methadone, oral

(I need to turn to the readers of these journals for an answer: Was Matt correct on accessing that Methadone is more powerful and harder to get off? I have heard this and also see that many struggle just as hard or harder to get off Methadone. Should heroin be given instead and just tapered down instead of giving a long-lasting high that does not provide the down time for stabilizing the mind to reality? I have like no idea as I am not a drug user–all opioids make me so sick. Morphine gives me the grandest migraine you could ever imagine and oxys make me break out in hives. Too bad for me, I just tough it out on ibuprofen and Tylenol combined, and am living proof that it can be done (bladder surgery and a catheter for 10 days, esophagus surgery, bone graft from hip to finger…. Don’t get me wrong, it so sucked, so sucked like so so so bad. But, at least God granted me a gift of allergy.

I remember this birthday too as I couldn’t visit with Matt much–several people were going fishing with me as I love to fish. We were all ready to head out when he called. He sounded so forlorn but positive. We mostly just set up when he would come up to visit in the next week. If I had it to do again, to Hell with the fish! I have several messages on an old answering machine from Matt saying, ” Hey ma,…love ya ma.” I was such an infant of life until I met death. I should try to figure out how to put sound on a blog so you can hear his voice too.  Can’t wait to hear that voice again in Heaven. If someone reading this is struggling with heroin, pills, etc., if I may suggest that you don’t do that to people you love–make them listen to a little phone message over and over and over for the next 40 years. Until some real help arrives, please consider trying over and over to just tough it out as 40 years is a long sentence for others and a death sentence for you. A lose-lose situation. There has to be a better way. A good start might be by telling people and asking for help.

Matt’s mom)

August 17, Monday, 2009 (old junkie and still angry about being preached to)

Spent today helping Bob (the old junkie antique collector with lyme disease) clean out his bedroom–wow, was that place ever a pit.  I felt so bad for him because he lives in such squalor.  Being a sick, old junkie will do that to you, on top of being a pack rat.

I spent a lot of the day feeling angry about yesterday and the way Cindy got hypocritical with me regarding the whole drug issue.  I must admit that I am quite the junkie, but they never see it, despite pretending to once in a while.  I do nothing to indicate this, and even if I did she would still have no basis to preach to me about anything!  She’s addicted to percocet like crazy, and she won’t be off MJ for very much longer either, despite what Lennie feels like doing with church, God, etc.  That shit just won’t last long at all.

Work went well enough.  I finally got on the same level as Kevin.  He really surprised me by being really mature tonight.  I hope it lasts.

Intake:  5 mg methadone, oral


August 16, Sunday, 2009, rated 3 (hypocrites and pissed off)


Today started off really good and ended up in a real bad way.  I got straight around noon when Joey hooked me with two methadone tabs. That was nice.  I sneaked in with Bill and ended up grabbing another one from him.  what a nice guy.

I made the miss-step of telling Cindy that I had taken the methadone to keep from getting physically sick on my day off.  At first it was just myself and Cindy, and we had a good conversation.  Things were going pretty well, until Lennie got home and then, predictably, Cindy changed her tone and rhetoric.  She became very heavy-handed, VERY judgmental.  It really pissed me off, really badly.  She is a total and complete hypocrite, as well as Kelly [they are sisters].  They talk behind my back constantly, and well, I’m f**king through with it.  I’m totally done with the hypocritical bullshit.  Things are going to change here, right away.  I won’t stop hanging with them, but they will not walk on me anymore.  No f**king way.

Intake:  50 mg methadone, oral

(I am not standing up for Matt’s addiction or his drug-culture. But, I do need to interject here, as I do know these women and do feel quite perplexed by their dealings, drugs and comments wise. You see, I sent Matt down there as ‘Cindy’ was a confirmed Christian, and she confirmed to me that she was happy to help Matt stay clean; she had been a Coke addict years before, an alcholic in the last several years, and had beat them both. Therefore she was the one for the job. A faithful church goer and an involved community church member, I had faith in her ability. I also had bi-weekly talks with her about Matt. In no way do I hate these women; I am just studying this situation, trying to understand their way of thinking, and trying hard to figure out this life we live. I talked to these women often and feel for their own struggles too. Life is too short for hate, but I do see that they, like many of us, are in certain levels of  understanding.

The talks we had were mostly about how lazy Matt was, and how angry she was at Matt. She also complained that he just hung around and didn’t help her much; she wanted more help cleaning the house and all. She was also angry that he didn’t seem to be making any head-way on finances. What exactly was keeping her from telling me that Matt was taking Methadone? Why would she hold that back from me, knowing that he was in treatment, was a risk to re-addict, and was my only son? Not that if I had 10 that would make a difference. But, it wasn’t like I had an overly stretched life!

Well, actually I did have a stretched life at this point. If you read the piece on How to Love the Addict, you may remember that I was married that year. I married Cindy and Kelly’s brother. We met at church two years before the marriage and had a very typical courting period–we didn’t live together and just dated. He and others told me that this man had been a terrible alcoholic, just miserable. However, he hadn’t had a drink for over seven years according to all [not the truth I came to realize], and according to him. One month after our marriage he started going to lunch and having beer. Not being a drinker myself I could tell right away. Well, things went on from there and at this point in time, August 2009, he had dissolved–a complete puddle. So, I was dealing with quite a bit. I tried to tell his sister this. But, I guess I was the problem. According to her I had to put the hammer down and control him. She actually thought the problem was mine as I wasn’t controlling him enough. How can anyone be put in charge of another person? Even if that was possible and it worked, this person would now be the authority figure, the controller, the person that had the responsibility.  The addict would have no responsibility for self, no onus. Not only was I not willing to try to control someone else, I knew that it was not possible and ultimately not healthy. Was this what she was doing with Matt?

She did not tell me what was happening at all; she probably felt guilty for promoting the addiction, but addicts do cultivate that in those around them. When I explained what was happening to her brother she stated that I, me, other person than him, ya me, not him, needed to take control of the situation.  I was to run roughshod over him and make sure that he didn’t drink. He was over 50! So, he needed a mother not a wife? And, he wanted a wife to control him so that he didn’t need to feel responsible for himself? Is this even reasonable? Is this even healthy? Doesn’t that keep an addict in an immature state? Wouldn’t that just transfer all the inner discomfort with self to someone else to resent?  He would have only had someone to blame and someone to hide from–someone to resent as another authority figure. This was not the relationship I had envisioned or even wanted to cultivate.

This isn’t about me, but I bring this in to try to understand why these two women would berate Matt yet support his addiction? The one person that would have run down there and offered some help was not even notified–me. Why would she tell me to control my husband and not  even bother to tell me that my son needed controlling? [Honestly, I still have no idea why. If anyone has an idea, please post. I am just newly out of the ‘durrrr’ stage of life.] Not that I would have controlled Matt. As you can see from his comments, he was happy to tell someone about his problem but angered when given the ‘talk’. Really, it is quite fruitless to condemn an addict for using. Does anyone think that nagging will really help? If so, that person must enjoy nagging, or he has not yet figured out that it is absolutely a waste of time. They were just wasting their time.

So, let’s just pretend that this journal entry went a bit differently. Pretend that Matt came to ‘Cindy’s, talked about being in withdrawals and getting methadone. Cindy was very understanding. Good so far. No controlling just two individuals exchanging deeply personal issues. Then she talked about what he wanted, how she and others could help, offered help. They hugged and promised to talk again the next day as he left. I wonder what would have came out of that.

Okay, new story out of the blue, your story or someone you know well: This person giving the ‘talk’ to the addict  is a) extremely overweight, b) extremely concerned about body size, c) drinks too much, d) is so much into money that family is unimportant, e) buys stuff constantly and is way in debt, f) smokes, g) is into porn, way into porn, h) fill in the blank with an addiction. This person, you, knows this  drug addict who has hinted, or maybe told you outright that he is experiencing withdrawals from his addiction. So, after the addict divulges his problem even only slightly you go off, cut him down, give him the ‘straighten up’ talk. I am certain the only thing he wants is to feel better about himself and you just totally downed him. You have become part of the reason to hide it even more. For one, you think you are so much better. You had better not be anything from a) to h) if you are going to preach, because I will tell you the addict will see you as a complete hypocrite. So, only perfect people can even attempt this tactic. However, if you are perfect you have most likely dealt with conquering your own tendencies and have some understanding of human fallibleness, so you wouldn’t do that. Possibly you are thinking you are perfect but in reality are one of those babies of life not yet having experienced your true nature, your weaknesses, your humanness. [God isn’t done with you yet, so just wait and remember that pride comes before a fall.]  If you are this last type you will not understand that this person is in need of hugs, love, understanding, and then, only then, some real problem solving on how to get out of the trap.  Consider why this addict is telling you they have a problem–they need empathy, they need ideas, they need to feel real and not hide anymore. Consider if you told your friend you were having an affair on your spouse (drugs is a love affair). Would you tell someone and then expect to be lectured? OF COURSE THIS PERSON KNOWS THAT HAVING AN AFFAIR IS WRONG. WHY DO YOU THINK THEY ARE TELLING YOU? They need a shoulder, and they need some ideas that do not remove their autonomy.

Autonomy is so important to an addict. This could be a part of why they have turned to a substance, a feeling of no control. So, trying to take that away will only produce the same scenario you see in Matt’s journal entry for this day–anger, retreat, walls. These two women had an opportunity to talk candidly to Matt. Offering some alternatives, asking for permission to tell mom as she may be willing to help find the needed drugs if she understood the pain…would have been such a welcome response. Certainly the wrong thing to do is give an addict ‘the talk’. Certainly the wrong thing to do to anyone is put them down, make them feel inadequate, tell them that their problems are so easy to solve, and then go back to your own sordid life.

Anyone who is in need of a real shoulder, an empathetic ear, and some sensitive problem solving feel free to post below. Others wander by this site often, not too many post, but many and most who do are quite understanding. They may give you some ideas on what to do if you just tell and ask. Too bad I learned this lesson too late for Matt, too bad that I also gave him the talk way too many times in the past. I truly believe he didn’t tell me these things until the end was due to a fear of losing control; after rehab and moving to Madison, he felt in control. He just wanted me to know that he was then in control. Hindsight is 100% though. Shoulda’s can only be passed on. So here’s the 2 cents worth of this blog post: let others be in control and let others cry while offering comfort.

Just in case you may not believe that Matt wanted to be in control of his life you should read his tattoo: Invictus. It’s a poem.

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

Matt’s mom )

August 15, Saturday, 2009 rated 5 (God and diazepam)

Today was average, as many of my days are.  I ended up trading some valuims for a few methadones, thank God, got me straight for work.  Now I’m out of valium, but I have credit with my dealer for Tuesday next.

Stopped at Cindy’s, had a great Biblical conversation with Lennie [Cindy’s husband].   It was quite intense, very nice, we really connected for once in a great while.  I really like Lennie, such a nice and good person he is.  He just emanates it wherever he goes.

Work went so/so today.  I look forward to that concerta!  I had to take 5 valiums all told just to get through the night.  What a terrible experience.

Talked with Ron on the phone for a bit, that was nice; wow, he really has changed for the better, no drugs, no alcohol, doing quite well, bought a car.  I’m happy for him.  I hope to see him really soon!!!

Intake:  20 mg methadone, 45 mg diazepam oral


August 14, Friday, 2009 (dope sick)

What a day to be dope sick!  A sunny August Friday with a full seven hours of work!  It was not a pleasant day for me today.  I spent most of my morning chasing down my Valium, and the $15 I needed for them.  Any normal day would be great to have Valiums because they are coveted by the junkies around me, traded easily for things I like better, but not today.  Today my dealer was out.  His old lady was crying she was so f**king sick.  His next door neighbor was out also, but I turned him on in hopes of scoring a 10 methadone tomorrow morn.  We’ll see.

Work was shit.  I took an 80 mg concerta that I had lying around in hopes that it would push me through my shift.  I haven’t decided whether or not it helped any.  I felt it, but I still felt pretty sick, strange too.  I’m starting to hate work.

Anyways, tomorrow is another day.  I have these vals to help me sleep tonight, and tomorrow I have a few prospects.  Damn, I just need to quit.

Intake: Ø day one, 20 mg diazepam

August 13, Thrusday, 2009 rated 5, Drug intake for one month, need to quit!

Matt, redwing shirt, at home with family.

Today was a stereotypical day in almost every way possible, a day I would certainly forget about if it weren’t  for my trusty journal!  I spent the day sitting at Aunt Cindy’s with a big knot in one muscle in my back, didn’t do much there, tried calling mom to no avail. Haven’t spoken to her in several days, which sucks. Went to work at 4, it went well.  I felt melancholic all day today.  I figure it’s just dealing with the flood of good memories from hanging w/ Jessie all day yesterday.  I really miss home now.  I’m really hating my existence in Oshkosh, wish I had some friends or something to do, poor poor pitiful me.

Today marks the one month anniversary of starting this journal.  It seems that I made everyday except one–pretty good.  I’m happy about it.   I love my journal now, and make it a priority to write it everyday before I go to sleep.

On the following page I will tabulate my drug intake for the month.

Intake: 20 mg oxyco, oral, 400 mg propox oral

Drug intake:   July 13–Aug 13

oxyco oral:  275 mg–free

oxyco IV:  160 mg–$160.00

morphine IV:  600 mg–$300.00

hydroco oral: 850 mg–$65.00

valium:  50 mg–$5.00

propox:  1000 mg–free

# of days I smoked:  11–$20.00 (? maybe)

# of “sober” days in month:  3

methadone and klonopin are negligible–$10.00

So, here I can see my intake for the first time on a monthly basis.  I have extrapolated the costs from memory and current prices for the stuff where I get it, for instance, I’m going to remember the $160 I spent on 40’s because it stung.  Now, I don’t think that it’s possible that I spent $560, but I believe it reasonable to assume that out-of-pocket for me was about $500 this mouth, out of around $850 total income–so, what I don’t pay in rent goes into my blood-stream.  That’s so sad.  The oral oxies are all from Cindy, 27 of them, quite a bit.


If you look at how happy Matt was in that picture, being around close family members at the dinner table, and then you look at Matt deep into his drug addiction relapse, you can give yourself a reality check on the value of getting clean and staying there. However, the voice in an addict’s head is like a very small megaphone repeating lies: just this once (once as in 10 years at a time?), I deserve it as I have been good for so long (so, being good means that you deserve to be miserable again?), I will quit tomorrow (didn’t you say that yesterday?), life without drugs is boring (true, making all those connections is very entertaining), I can’t have fun without drugs (true, handcuffs, getting AIDS, always broke, almost dying in deep nods, and all those quality friends… how does the tune go? memories…May be beautiful and yet, What’s too painful to remember
We simply choose to forget), no one will know (the coroner will tell them), and everyone’s favorite–I would be miserable for days trying to get off them (how many days of misery equals how many days of being in control of  your life?).

I am rooting for everyone out there who can still read these words in hopes that you will gain some strength, knowledge, and hope for yourself and others.
Matt’s mom

August 12, Wednesday, 2009, 9.2 (First love, Jessie visits)

Matt and high school buddies

Today was one of the best days I’ve had in years!! Jessie came from Green Bay to pick me up after work.  Wow, how amazing it was to see this girl after seven years, to the month in Fact!!  The last I saw Jessie was Aug. 3, 2002.  The first sight of her, wow, she looks spectacular!  A little thin, but not un-healthy at all, glowing she was, absolutely beautiful and stunning just like she was before. She was so bubbly and happy too, it was so amazing to see her face, I never thought that I would again.

She took me to Green Bay and we immediately smoked some very good weed when we got to her place.  We just talked and talked, about everything from people we knew, to places we had gone, to everthing we’d done in seven long years. IT FELT SO GOOD to talk with this soul, this beautiful human spirit.  She showed me pictures, I showed her mine.

I can see that she is so happy now, so much in love with this Nate, a really nice guy.

I was just continually struck by this young lady’s happiness, and also that she had worked so hard and had finally attained success!  She told me (quite proud, great for her!) that she has $20,000 in the bank that she never touches.  She may even buy a home!  We ate breakfast with_____ (she was a little on the quiet side) but it was fun nonetheless.  I was feeling great all day seeing these two ghosts from my past, and seeing that they were both doing so incredibly well.

I smoked with Jess all day, we drove to see some nature preserve, a waterfall which was dry, and Green Bay looked magnificent!  The day was so perfect!  It was spectacular.

I feel sad now after she dropped me off.  I feel bad that here I am, doing so poorly while my comrades are so happy.  I’m not jealous or envious, just wish I was up there with them, happy also.  I hope to keep up with Jessie now.  I really hope I can!

Intake:  65 mg hydroco, oral, smoked all day

August 11, Tuesday, 2009 rated 6.5 (Room mate irritation)

Today was pretty boring for the most part.  I continued burning through my vikes, got a pretty good hit early in the day from them, just wanted to kill time before I finally saw Jessie!

I’ve been avoiding John lately; he’ s just been more of an ass, for no reason.  He’s just getting meaner and meaner.  Whatever, I just hope I can deal with it until I’m off paper and out of this horrible town.  But, Probably I will have to move because it seems to just get on my nerves lately.

Work went well and quickly.  Tess didn’t piss me off too much!!!

My whole next entry will be about Jessie!

Intake:  95 mg hydroco, oral

August 10, Monday, 2009 rated 6.5 (traded vikes for morphine)

Peaceful and beautiful day outside today.  Got the vikes filled, now I only have two fills left.  Thought I would’ve had five, but they caught the mistake.  I rode to Morton’s Parm with Baldwin, gave up ten tabs just because I’m a nice guy!  He didn’t believe they were actually vikes, but I’m sure he does now!  Spent the balance of the day before work just moping around, getting high, but only lightly.  I can never get real messed up on those vikes.  Traded ten for a morphine, which helped a little.

Work was alright.  Karl is a little asshole, but whatever, he’ll self-destruct I’m sure, I hope anyways.  Lisa was mngt, and she sucks, so that’s how that goes.

Tomorrow I’ll hang with Jessie!  So excited about that!  I so wonder how that will go.

I struck up a conversation with Becky on FB last night.  It was interesting.  We decided to hang out sometime soon.  I feel slightly romantically inclined towards her; it would be wonderful to maybe get some action with her! not to mention a real relationship.

Intake:  30 mg morphine IV, 10 mg hydroco oral

(This is a picture of Matt age 12 with baby sister. When I read the journal posts he made, I can’t really see the older Matt different than the younger one; they are the same. But, something happened between this sweet pic of him and sissy, and him and trading vikes for morphine. Dear God, how did this happen? The shift was so fast, established, unforeseen. Therefore, it must have been there already, in this picture too. It must have. I just didn’t see it.

If you look at those eyes, that smile, the clean house, the soccer games, the hikes in the mountains, the motorcycle rides, the pine-derby cars, the church camps with horses, the mountain tops climbed, the desert camping, the what-the-hell-ever-normalville life we lived, and look deep, you would have to look through a DNA test. How could I fight it? His biological father died at age 45 (?) of alcholism, well the report said heart attack. But, he was in a motel room alone, being kicked out by current wife, and visited the emergency room regularly for various alcohol related system failures. However, Matt only saw the man several times in his life. He did write Matt letters though, beautiful letters, full of imagery, voice, symbolism, and hope. Matt naturally wrote and spoke well himself, even though he was a minimal student–not very motivated by grades but very motivated to learn. I can see that in this picture of Matt–well spoken. Got that from dad. Too bad he got the ‘Sleeping Beauty prick of the needle’ gene too. Can’t see it here, but it is. It’s in those beautifully deep eyes that feel too much, see too much, care too much.

… sorry, had something in my eye, snivel.

Okay, back to typing my thoughts: This I know for certain–God came for the weak, the broken, and the willing. When reading the scriptures (usually during church service as it is so very boring that I read instead) I see Jesus shunning the powerful and well-established people and hanging with people a lot like Matt. I bet Him and Matt are having a grand time right now. I also bet He led Matt to write these journals just to show people that “As you did to one of the least of these my brothers, you did to me [Matthew 25:40].”

Matt’s mom)

August 9, Sunday 2009 rated 7 (parenting, spending, Jesus)

Today was a really wonderful day off–urgh! my nice pen won’t work! [blue ink went to black here] It started with me walking to Kelly’s this morning, smoked and got lightly buzzed.  From there I went to Joey’s house to check the situation.  Unfortunately for my self-control, I skimmed 40 more dollars from my rent and my only $20 from food just so I could get high;  My drug bill this week stands at $220!!  Now I will be paying $220 for rent next week, plus be way back in my loan payments.  My next check is gone almost–out of about $400, $280 is gone just to rent and rolling my loan, plus it’s morphine time, so next week I can forget about food again.  This is so sad.  I’m thinking of taking a “drug vacation” in order to get that damn loan paid.  Then maybe I can get out of this hole a little more, feel better about my situation for sure.  September is the time, while I still have vicodin coming in and hours, I should do it.  In fact, after I get done with my journal tonight I’m going to look at the calender and formulate a master plan!

Anyways, I was hanging with Kelly and Chad [her grandson] was over.  I feel bad for that kid.  He’s spoiled f**king rotten by Kelly, and it seems to me (just perception, I could be wrong) that Sharon [Kelly’s daughter] let’s him do whatever the f**k he wants to.  His father seems to be quite the asshole, and Chad rebels against him probably because the two women (knowing or unknowing) fill his head with shit about his guy.  I saw Chad tell his father:  “You’re not my daddy anymore,” to which his dad got pretty pissed, slowly chased him down, and probably gave him a swat and a few choice words.  I can see why Chad doesn’t like him–watching this guy (Cody is his name?) play with Chad I could see he was totally detached, just no desire whatsoever to spend ‘my’ time with this little brat, which he is.  But, at the same time no-one wants to change this kid for the better.  Kelly lives vicariously through him, and justifies the damage she does to him by saying, “I spend hardly any time with him, so what if he’s spoiled a bit with me, that’s what I have the right to do.”

That’s what my gramma said too, and although I love my grandmother with un-dying intensity, I do believe that perhaps the way she treated me had something to do with me becoming a drug user later in life.  I had no discipline with her, and I expected quick rewards and gratification, just like I do now.  I can see the same thing happening with Chad, just no firm direction, a really broken-up and convoluted family situation with people shipping him here and there when it’s one grown-ups “turn” to “fulfill” whatever responsibility they have to this accidental human being.

Such is life in America there days. No-one really cares about people in the way they should.  They don’t take pains to raise them to be balanced and principled adults. My mother tried so hard, and I think that she succeeded with me on several levels, but it is my own fault that I throw it away on a daily basis with the drugs–I think Chad will inevitably become a drug addict, probably fail at academia, and then go looking for a factory job when he turns 18, by which time none will exist.

Kelly’s whole family is really twisted.  Sharon is fairly okay because she was raised by Cindy.  I guess Kelly didn’t raise any of her own children.  She seems to avoid any real responsiblity by living off of several (3) different men.  Her life consists of jetting off to this place and that, Iowa, Madison, Rhinelander, Oshkosh, to make birthdays, parties, whatever.  She doesn’t work at all, but in each place she visits she has a male benefactor that puts up with her.  Here in Oshkosh is Dave, a really nice guy, factory worker all his life–Kelly hardly sees him; when she is around they don’t even sleep in the same room, but for some reason he pays all of her bills, buys her gas, MJ, pricey organic food, and all he gets? Well, she criticizes him and his lifestyle all the time, talks down about hin in general, but his money and his home keep her there.  She drives a nice newer car that “Derick” all but completely purchased for her. Derick is her “boyfriend” in Madison.  She really never sees him–he is such a complete asshole, full of himself, millionaire–pretty worthless.  I can’t imagine any real woman putting up with him, but Kelly can! for the money of course.  She also has a boyfriend all the way in Iowa, where she spends a majority of her time.  I’ve never met this one, but it seems like maybe this is the guy she is truly romantic with, and I hear he is violent and crazy, wow, great for her!

I’m writing a lot about Kelly, mostly because her personality and what she does makes me a little sick.  The very worst part is that Kelly is one of the most self-righteous and hypocritical people I know.  She is terribly judgemental, and has gotten quite fierce and heavy-handed with me on several occasions, which just pisses me right off.  She hasn’t for a while, so everything I am writing today is true feelings, not motivated by anything emotional, just simply observation and logic.  I hang with Kell because she can be fun in a superficial type way, she always gets me high (one of my main motivations for even putting up with her at all), and I suppose in this way I am using her. Now I am the hypocrite!  Not really, but a little.  I strive to be better connected to her, but her mind is so twisted, her convictions and her opinions are so incredibly ignorant, a product I think of a simpler mind, and a deeply damaged persona.  As I mentioned in last Thursday’s entry, she lives her life in fear of just about anything that kills, especially bacteria.  She also eats organic food and takes tons of supplements completely out of fear.  Her decision making part of her personality is quite easily swayed by 300 word newspaper articles and Michael Moore “documentaries” (hehe, yeah right).  She takes everything at face value, never ever bothering to fully investigate anything or even to think deeply for any span of time.  These things bother me, but not enough to actually dislike her, I like all types of people, ignorance will not exclude anyone from my circle.  I just don’t like being judged by her because it’s so insane coming from her.  She should feel bad for bringing that Damn Shawna into our lives.  We found out later that Kell was having a lesbian relationship with her, but that whole situation just shows how incredibly clouded Kelly’s mind is, how foolish and weak she is.  I wonder how much longer we will have that contact?  I really wonder if at some point her house of cards will tumble down.  She has many good qualities–she is kind and giving, pretty also, especially for a woman of 50 years old, but in my mind she will not change, unless she finds Jesus, she is way too old to change at this point.

John also got back from his trip.  Went to Wisconsin Dells for four days to celebrate his 32nd birthday with his girlfriend.  She ended up breaking up with him.  He insists that he did nothing wrong, but then again he never sees when he does something wrong.  He is always correct in his mind.  In fact, a lot of the difficulties I have with him arise from him trying to apply his “correctness” to me, or situations I may be (even distantly) related to.  He is a pretty selfish guy naturally.  He sees none of his flaws, but he’s been living by himself for several years with no real way of gaining feedback on any of his actions.  I certainly don’t, not my place.  I try my best to be friends with him, but his natural self-centeredness always sabotages any type of friendship we may have developed.

Not that his girlfriend is any better.  I didn’t know her too well, but she definitely exhibited a unique “fat girl” type of personality.  Loud and opinionated, she was nice to me, cordial anyways, but I didn’t care for her.  They had a pretty healthy physical relationship, which I was audio-witness to on many a late night! Gross!

Anyways, John is all broken up, says he’s going to mope for “years” alone.  He pouts like a damn child who hasn’t gotten its way, this too is really sickening to me. I can feel now that he may be passively taking out his frustrations on me for the next few weeks. The way things look now, I am starting to think more about moving out, leaving this damn guy to his lonely, self-centered self.

God, deep down I just feel really badly for all the people I’ve written about tonight.  If I were the praying type I suppose I would pray for them, maybe I will tonight.  Pray that God lifts their afflictions from them, heals them and brings them to the gates of heaven.  I hope I can turn things around and one day be with those I love in Heaven above, deep inside it’s what I really want–to be good in Jesus’ eyes, to be whole and strive for the right things in this short life we all live.

Well, that’s it! My longest entry yet! I really love this journal.

Intake:  120 mg morphine IV, smoked

August 8, Saturday, 2009 rated 4.5 (Junkie’s game)


Today was a fairly boring and average day.  I went to cash in a flash and rolled both of my loans, all because I needed the extra money for dope; Kelly gave me a ride.  We then went to the park, walked out to the point with Chad, smoked some MJ, just me anyways, and then I walked Nevada street home, a long ways in 85° heat!!

Work was alright, it went smoothly.  April gave me a ride home and tried feeding me some shit about not being hooked up very well–bullshit, it’s all part of the junkie’s game.  She’s been just fine, probably better than me! Her lose when the valiums come in.

Elly’s car was broken into in the restaurant’s parking lot, passenger window smashed, purse stolen–just like what happened to Ana about a month ago.  I guess they have a serial burglar on their hands, kinda scary because this happened during day light hours!!

Tess switched shifts with me, and now my plans with Jessie are a lock for Wednesday, great!

Intake: Ø day one, smoked

August 7, Friday, 2009, rated 6 (spending on drugs realized, storm)

So, today, with money in my pocket I scored 2 more 40’s, bringing my drug bill for this check to a whopping $160 total.  That’s out of a $408 check.   In order to do it I had to clip 20 from my rent, roll over my little Payday loan, which I really just needed to pay off, and only allocate $24 to food for 2 weeks.  I’m deeply troubled over my expenditures.  I’m getting into a deeper hole with each passing month, and it’s ALL over drugs; without drugs I would have enough money for everything I want, my license, car, food, anything–but because I’m into opiates I can’t handle money at all, and it really sucks.  I’m surprised I can ever pay my rent these days, let alone buy food at all.

Work went well, the whole kitchen worked in unison all night and things rolled smoothly.  The whole “I wonder if Matt is a Junkie” thing has passed over, thankfully.

There was also a terrific lightening storm outside tonight, just beautiful, intense.  It struck close to the house several times with a loud report that shook the bones, just great!

Intake: 80 mg. oxyco IV, 80 mg. Concerta oral

(Looking at that horribly candid picture, I realized that I have that ring on this finger (last thing removed  before he was buried and hangs on a chain I carry still), I use that shirt still, my daughter has those glasses, and I kept that drinking glass even though it doesn’t match mine, but it was found by his bed by the police with water still in it.

I remember this day as Matt and I had one of those Mom talks about his complaints concerning money. It was one of those sparring contests with dodging and fencing moves as I helped him realize that I just wasn’t buying it. He ended up not buying it either as the convo ended with Matt admitting that he should not have money problems. As I have read his journals in entirity, and you have to wait for my slow typing, I can say that he does have great moments of courage and victory coming. He has a short lived and wonderful victory to come. That’s one reason I keep those little memory pieces listed above: they are my reminder of his victories. I’m working on my own victories too: those who need a big hug and a place to feel the warmth of acceptance along with snatching the nuts off of Big Pharma.

Thanks for reading Matt’s bit of ink,

Matt’s mom)

August 6, Thursday, 2008, rated 7, shooting up and germs

Stayed up late and slept only a few hours in anticipation of my check and those easy 40’s.   Started the day washing ceilings at Cindy’s place, met up with Kelly, who wanted me to help babysit Chad in Darboy for several hours.  Lucky for me Kelly gave me rides to get my check and then out to see Joey at his works, so I could score said 40.  I brought my whole kit bag with me and the minute I got to Shelly’s place I was in the bathroom shooting up.  Felt so good, so familiar–wiped my sick away, but because I had smoked with Kelly on the way over I didn’t enjoy my oxy high as much as I should have.

We were at Shelly’s for way too long, I was getting tense at the end, wanted to go. I had Kelly drop me at Joey’s when we got back into Osh, scored another 40 and went home, stoned. I shot that too and proceeded to have a VERY intoxicated conversation with Renee.  It was tough; I was having a hard time keeping track of what I was saying.  After that Jessie called and we concreted our plans for Wednesday.

I’m so excited about that, very excited.  I wonder what it will be like to see this girl after 7 long years!!  Wow, 7 years, unbelievable.  If it wasnt for Facebook I would never have sen her again.

My day off from work was pretty good all around, smoked a lot and got high in style, exactly what I’ve been living for now for too many years.  I really need to stop, this shit is so f**king expensive.

One more interesting thing:  On our ride over I asked Kelly for a sip of her water, but she is so afraid of germs that she gave me the whole bottle.  She then proceeded to tell me a story about some friend of hers taking a drink of someone elses water and then dying 3 days later from meningitis.  I remember thinking that I would be happy to not only drink her water, but also to squirt it into my veins–which I did.  Kelly thinks she is empowered, smart, independent, but she isn’t; she let’s corporate America scare her into isolation, believes everything she hears, and acts accordingly, like a sheep.  God, how terrible to be afraid of f**king germs!!

Intake:  80 mg oxyco, IV, smoked all day

( I sure hope I am not shocking anyone or being too bold with posting all this. Found these pics after Matt died.  These are the ‘early days’ pics, pre 2007. Towards the end he wasn’t so impressed by himself and I doubt would have posed for a photo shoot of what he feared was the inevitable–his death. Bold and youthful, how we all seem to think we are somehow going to fall out of this life laughing at our moxie. Older and wounded how we hope to have something catch us as we know the fall is going to hurt bad.

“Kelly”here has always been so afraid of that fall for some reason. She  is quite an engaging individual, though she and Matt had a condone/condemn sort of relationship. Can’t say I would hug her for all the deception and drugs that went about. However, I do find Matt’s take on the whole germ deal a bit contemplative: germs are so little yet so fierce. So many have such fear of them. I count myself lucky to have the belly of a Rhino, able to eat carrots from the garden with only a quick dusting. I even drink from rivers when fishing, though the thought of a dead deer lying upstream, marinating in the water, gives me hesitation. Knowing full well the risk I take, the water still tastes so good to my thirst. Then, I get in my Jeep and drive home, risking the road, where many a soul have passed, but not walking is so worth the risk. Don’t think much about driving as risky. Don’t think much about water as risky either. And, I don’t use paper towel to open restroom doors either. The phobic seed is something I refuse to water as it could just grow into a noxious weed. And, I drink lots of water, any water. Camping for most of my summers, I wash in lots of life filled water; I have to chase away all the small fry that are interested in my suds as I bathe in the sandy shallows filled with frogs and water bugs. How foreign to consider water as something that could kill you, especially when so many other things out there have you in the crosshairs, like opiates, stress, skin cancer, stress, murder, stress, overeating, stress, and heart disease. Kelly was a regular user; in fact, I can’t think of a time I saw her and she wasn’t stoned on pot. But, she wouldn’t eat bananas, stayed away from wheat, and took her fish oil daily.  Not knocking her at all, but lately I just don’t think I care about the little things that kill people anymore, I am more focused on the big things.

How unaccountable we all become to these big things when media fear tactics get us afraid of water, food, germs. I’m thinking I might just drink out of a puddle as it’s raining right now. And then I will come back and look in the mirror and say, “I like you, just the way you are, so don’t stress about anything.”

For most addicts, I believe looking in a mirror is something that they avoid.  And, saying “I like me” is something untainable without their drug. Another common theme I have been seeing in addiction is the need to control those things outside the addiction, like Kelly here, or like Memo’s Mikayla. Not being at all educated in psychology, but getting to know so many addicts through this blog and others like it, I wonder if all of us to some degree and addicts to a higher degree don’t try and over-control those things in our life that are similar to those things that we know are out of control. Reading my son’s journals really made me look at myself so much differently.

Matt’s mom)

August 3, Monday, 2009 rated 6.75 (Methadone, etc.)

(Sorry for missing this page. Out of order as I skipped by accident.)

Went back to Cindy’s today and assisted her with washing the ceilings.  On my way over I stopped at Will’s,  (? word) Baldwin again.  This time he was talking about buying some rocks, sorta surprised me because I thought he had been a “non-crack head” for a few years.  The day was once again classic.  Started with some severe thunder storms early this morning, but wore on into a beautiful and breezy August day.  I took a ride with Cindy to Wal-Mart, talked on the phone with Bill and also with Dan for a while.  From Cindy’s I went to work, and I worked with Joel tonight.  I love working with that guy, such a great human character.  Work went well, a little busy for a Monday, but things are back in order after EAA.   I can see on the schedule that my hours are secure for the next few weeks anyways, that I really like.  I’m getting excited to see Jessie next week, and my mother later on in the month.  August is looking up from here, we’ll see how well it goes.

Intake:  10 mg. methadone, 30 mg oxyco, oral

(Anyone know how Matt was able to get methadone and oxyco? I know from his papers and cards from his apartment that he went to a methadone clinic, but I just am a bit curious as to how that all works. He never told me that he was on methadone. I have seen others on it: eyes rolling and checking out for maybe 30 seconds and then coming back. But, Matt never did that at all.)

August 5, Wednesday, 2009, rated 7/10 (work, darvocet, raise)

I awoke this morning to a phone call from Joey telling me that there were easy 40’s around, with the right cash that is.  I knew I was SOL in this instance because I won’t have cash till tomorrow.  I tried talking credit, but it was useless.  Too bad.

I then walked over to Aunt Kelly’s, haven’t seen her in a few weeks.  We smoked of course, and I told her that sick little saga about work–she ended up letting me take 3 darvocet, which was the only way I was even able to function today, thank goodness.

I retreated home, stoned and just feeling generally ugly, bad about everything.  I got a call to come to work early for my evaluation, which frankly after yesterday I was dreading–to my utter surprise it went quite well!!! I scored 2nd best on that written test, AND discovered that management had seen through Tess’ little f**king game__I NOW HAVE CONTROL OF THE KITCHEN!!!  I was told by Mac that I would be getting a lot more hours as well as a small raise to $8/hr.  I can hardly believe I’m happy with that.  I used to make 9 just for cashiering.  Anyways, I was just so trilled that Tess finally got put in her place.  I was victorious and they saw through the BS and into the fact that I work harder for them than anyone else in that place, and now I have full-time hours to show for it.  Little steps, little steps.

I didn’t feel the best physically today, but the good news from work really made me forget my body, forget about the AS (abstinence syndrome).  The Darvocet really helped the different systems in my body.  I’m surprised they don’t use this for treatment, no euphoric feeling, just ease.  I didn’t take enough to solve all my problems physically, but I got by today.

Intake:  300 mg propoxyplene, oral, smoked


August 4, Tuesday, 2009 rating 3/10 (hardcore user)

Me and Matt,standing on the edge…

Today was going pretty well; I once again bumped into Baldwin (happens a lot lately) and smoked up with him this morning before heading to Cindy’s place.  I just sat at Cindy’s, didn’t get to work at all; Lenny’s sister stopped by and Cindy said doc was pissed about me failing to show up with any cash, that really sucked to hear while stoned!

Anyways, I cleared out (I always do) before going into work.   Tess was working  (that miserable bitch) and it was very slow so I was off to the side just doing prep work.  After about three hours I was pulled to the side, the office in fact, by Elta.  For the next 30 minutes I was “quizzed” about my entire life!  From the medications I take to the people I associate with.  I had to vigorously defend my little pity 7.50$/ hour job because I didn’t “look myself” today, and some phantom workers (it’s f**king Tess, that whore) don’t “feel comfortable” closing with me.  I think I did a damn good job defending  myself in the face of this bullshit.  At one point I offered my agent’s card to Elta and told her that if she had any concerns to call her up and discuss them with her.  She refused the card!!  I even offered to take a UIA [couldn’t read this well, so may be wrong] for her, anytime, anywhere.  She refused that (for the moment anyways) too.

I can’t believe this happened.  I never go to work f**ked up, EVER, and today I didn’t even feel especially sick, even though it’s day one and I had bad diarrhea all day–maybe I was a little pale, but I know it didn’t affect my workmanship in the least.  A lot of this I’m convinced has to do with Tess and her incredible bullshit, f**k her, now I have to dream up an intelligent way to twist the screws on her miserable ass.

What a bad day, but strangely, I don’t feel it because I’m convinced I did a great job defending myself.  I’m still really worried because I suppose I really am a “hardcore” user.  But, I know that nothing I’ve actually done has indicated to anyone that this is the case.  I’m careful, but I suppose this is a warning that I should be even more so. F**K!

Intake: ø, day one–smoked

(I remember talking to Matthew about this issue. How beneath him restaurant work was I thought and said. I tried so hard to convince him that he could be a journalist; he could travel the world taking pictures and reporting back. So unafraid he was of foreign lands and strange cultures, and he loved politics.  We talked about achieving dreams, getting away from small people, and living our potential. He chided me for not traveling more, as I did when he was a kid; he lived with me in Rome, Mexico, Guatemala, and the Rockies. However, he hated all the moving and hated the food even more. All he ever wanted to do was come home.  Now, he was reminiscing on the wonderful childhood he had and how my living in the woods, closed, hermit like, was not good for his little sister. I wanted more for him and he wanted more for me.

Seeing me work as a waitress for years until I earned my degree I thought maybe he would not do the restaurant thing. I still have nightmares about waitressing: I have a tray and keep wandering through room after room getting sidetracked with a ticket to fire, and I keep walking past that table expecting me to serve them. Such guilt and avoidance as I pass by knowing that I have been sidetracked with their order. Strange how our children live our nightmares. Being sidetracked is so easy, so convincing, so immediate. How we tussle over a morsel when the door is straight ahead, easy to push, and illuminated by the sun outside. The customers come in and go out, but there we stay, serving, thinking that this is the all important thing–make them happy. If I had it to do again, I would take off the apron and march straight into that sunlight. I guess sometimes those things that are urgent just aren’t really important.

So as to not speak in parables, I will say this a bit more straight: imagine Matt losing this job; imagine me walking away from my contracted position; imagine the two of us meeting in a field, face to face and having to meet there without our jobs. …. Then, imagine us planning to meet there but instead a more urgent order arises. So, we decide to interact by text message saying instead, “Hey, had to keep my job, sorry I couldn’t get there for you as someone wanted a prime rib done medium rare; ya me too, gotta get back and go to that meeting; I know nothing will come out of the meeting, but I need to make face. Love ya tons and see ya.”

So, screw Tess. Screw prime rib. Screw my job. Screw it all. I would give the whole rotten pile of Rubbermaid containers of pictures and cedar siding and Mexican tile kitchen and crown moulding to live in a tent with Matt.  Actually, that would be sort of fun, conquering the world from a flimsy piece of canvas. So many things really don’t matter when faced to choose between important and urgent. Loved ones know this. To loved ones out there, daily lawn care may seem urgent, but it is not important. Do the important today, and screw Tess! To those addicts out there, opiates may seem urgent, but they are not important. If you don’t believe me try shopping for a casket to put your treasures in. Make sure to pick a color you like. Otherwise others will pick it out and you will have to look at that for quite a long time without any input. I picked a lovely grey. Well, they called it silver, but it is still grey to me. What would your loved ones pick? Or, you could be honest instead. Tell the Tesses of the world, “Ya, stoned bad. Yup, way stoned. Hey, would you help me? Please help me?” Honestly, the world will not stop turning, your kids will get fed, and things will settle if you just walk out that door and stop serving others. Serve the important as the rest is a lie.

Matt’s mom)

August 2, Sunday, 2009 rating 6.5/10

Matt enjoying a beautiful August day of his youth.

Semi-eventful day today.  Saw Baldwin on my walk up to Aunt Cindy’s to hep finish painting.  Of course, we rolled and scored a dime bag of smoke, so I went to Cindy’s place sorta high.  Her stepson, Ned, was I guess dying to get high, so I let him smoke some of the very little that I had.  He ended up bumming me smokes for the rest of the day!  At one point Lenny (Cindy’s husband) pulled me aside and told me not to smoke with Eric (not sure who this is) , so I didn’t after that.

The day was typically beautiful, warm, and sunny, with a hefty breeze that animated the surroundings.  At one point I fixated to the sight of laundry just hung out, dancing lazily in the August sun.  Today, I felt free for a few hours of my youth.

Intake:  20 mg oxyco, smoked

(A good reminder to us all to enjoy all those wonderful moments of our youth, no matter what age we are. Thinking that the weddings, birthdays, and Christmas’ would stand out the most, I focused so much energy on those events. However, these were never my favorite moments, and often were my worst being filled with hectic to-do lists, other people’s unruly children, smarmy comments, and exhaustive itineraries. The moments that hold the most wishes for a time-machine-trip would be moments like Matt had here: watching fresh laundry in the breeze. Do you have one of those poignantly mundane memories? If you can’t think of one, maybe it’s time to do what Walt Whitman did:

When I heard the learn’d astronomer,
When the proofs, the figures, were ranged in columns before me,
When I was shown the charts and diagrams, to add, divide, and measure them,
When I sitting heard the astronomer where he lectured with much applause in the lecture-room,
How soon unaccountable I became tired and sick,
Till rising and gliding out I wander’d off by myself,
In the mystical moist night-air, and from time to time,
Look’d up in perfect silence at the stars.
I would love to hear one of your moments where you also felt free for a few hours of your youth. So nice to see Matt had a resped from the hustle to enjoy the last year of his youth. Matt’s mom)


August 1, Saturday, 2009 rating 5.5/10

Today was the last day of EAA for me at work.  Looking back the week was kinda slow compared with what they told us would happen; it just was a lot slower than I would have anticipated.

Today I helped Aunt Cindy and her husband paint their house to get it ready for the market.  They chose a banana yellow scheme for the outside, which I think is a little loud, but they like it, and that’s what matters.  I will go again tomorrow I think.

Got Joey (Matt’s dealer) on the phone today; he sounded kinda pissed that I was chillin with Baldwin the other day.  F**k him! Why should he be angry?  Whatever, I’ll probably chill with him again, in fact I aim to score a bag from him tomorrow if at all possible.

Nothing else really happened today.  I ate the last of this week’s vikes, have to hustle now until payday, or until next refill.

Intake: 55 mg hydroco, 30 mg oxyco, oral

(Anyone out there noticing the hustle theme to Matt’s life? So tiring for him. Waking up everyday just to hustle to feel normal.  I sure hope those who are getting to know Matt are starting to see that addicts really are not what they look like to the world; those lazy eyes and untucked shirts are from all the stress involved in this crazy cycle. I think they just get too tired to even care anymore what they look like to others. How could they care when they feel so very alone in their battle? If you are an addict, please don’t feel so alone. I for one care. Anyone else out there who cares, just post below. Someone may wander along looking for someone else who cares too. Hugs, Matt’s mom)

July 31, Friday, 2009 rating 6/10

Woke up today with some weed still left.  Smoked it and got pretty lazy.  My agent made a surprise visit while I was still half stoned!!  I guess I had a decent visit because I didn’t end up getting arrested or field any questions out of the ordinary.

Other than that, it was a pretty normal day. I’m writing this late, so it’s kind of thin from my memories.

Intake: 80 mg hydroco, smoked

(His agent, uhmmm, ya… Question to the readers: Why do people on probation for drug charges get an agent? Why do people on probation pay fines and probation costs? Basic capitalism would demand an exchange of goods or services, correct? Not so. I still haven’t figured out why Matt had to pay every month to be on probation. I still can’t figure out what his P.O. did. Now, this may be out of the ordinary, however, I suspect not for Oshkosh. You see, Matt’s P.O. officer knew Matt was stoned. Matt called me after the visit and told me that the whole house reeked of pot and that he was obviously stoned. He also had obvious tracks on his arm as he had no time to prepare for the visit with a long sleeve shirt. So, why didn’t she do anything? Matt was stunned, happily, but still stunned. I was unaware that he was using IV drugs and was stunned that she didn’t bust him for pot. Oddly, this was the first time he told me he was smoking pot in Oshkosh, so I was doubly stunned. I didn’t know if I should be relieved he wasn’t put in jail or pissed that he was using pot. He was just so jubilant that he “had the coolest P.O. in the world” that he just had to share this with mom. I didn’t think it was very cool at all. So, I started asking more questions about this supposed court ordered watch-dog.

Here are some facts: His P.O. was younger than he was (22 yrs. old), she was not a former police officer, she was not a former drug user, and she was overwhelmed with paper work. If she had written Matt up, as she knew full well he was using, she would have had to fill out more paper work. She was being paid by this man, who just got out of jail a year earlier, to satisfy a court order. All she cared about was if he would have gotten arrested again.

One time he did get arrested, no actually twice. Once he was bitten by a dog and at the hospital was taken into custody because he didn’t pay one of his fines. King Kong Butt, his P.O. didn’t pass on that information to Matt, even though he had seen her just that week. The fines that landed him in jail were three months overdue. The second time Matt was found unresponsive in a city park, almost died in the ambulance, and was put in jail after being stabilized. This was one month before his death. Well, his P.O. was on vacation for 5 days and could not be reached, so Matt just sat there. I finally got a hold of another county probation worker and explained that my son had an addiction problem and needed help; I explained that he had been placed in the county jail and was being held until his P.O. could be reached, and “your name was given to me. Could you please get my son out of jail and put him in a drug program?”  Fat Lady at the Circus Butt, she went to the jail and apologized to Matt for the delay while turning the key to his cell. Yup, she signed him out. I was not the only one to call and speak to her either. Other family members called and pleaded with her to have him placed in rehab. When I spoke to her after the release she assured me that he was just fine, only heat stroke, the doctors said he didn’t have a problem and his collapse was not due to drugs.

Well, after his death I was able to get his hospital records, the ones with all the doctors notes and recommendations. The doctors clearly stated that Matt had severe addictions and gave him medications so that he would not have adverse effects from withdrawal. It did however state that his collapse was not due to drugs as far as anyone could tell; it rather looked like heat stroke. The heat stroke was complicated by all the legal prescriptions he had for narcotics. As he had just filled a script for vicodin, and many of his vicodin were gone, the doctors were very suspect of his use.

Matt told me all the above and the doctors’ notes supported this. Seems that after Matt passed out someone took most of his valium from his pocket. Matt told the police this and his blood tests supported this as not that much valium was in his blood. So, seems one of his connections almost killed him for a few pills.

Big question isn’t why Matt was hanging out with drug dealers that leave people for dead. Question is why did Matt pay for probabtion? I wonder how many other people out there had to pay for probation and received absolutely nothing. Matt’s mom)

July 30, Thursday, 2009 rating 7/10


Matt with a group of kids on the Guatamalan Boarder



Today was a pretty boring day off, until I met Baldwin and had a truly cultural experience!

I was walking to Joey’s trying to get a bag when I happened upon Baldwin, this Black guy I had met a few times before, briefly.  I saw him every time with a pipe in his hand, so I figured I could get a bag from him–which we did.  I took an amazing ride with this guy, and I got to see life from his point of view–Everything was Black!  I got to see the whole Black community in Oshkosh, one I didn’t ever get to see before.  I bought a dime and smoked up with this guy and just talked about shit, history, life, ect.  It was very deep and moving.  It’s something I seek in life; it’s something I love.

Intake:  85 mg hydoco, oral, smoked

(Matt just had this very good filter for people and would approach anyone he had a good feeling about without any hesitation. He never really looked at differences as points of fear but more as points of curiousity. You may be thinking that he was one of those irritating people that say something to you in the grocery store, the kind that look you in the eyes and ask how to pick out a good cantelope. No, he wasn’t creepy like that at all. In fact he had the best sense for creeps himself. He called it his creep meter. When someone was around that was giving off something, Matt could nail it like a polar bear smells a seal miles away. He would look at the guy/girl/ group, notice their stance, gestures, eyes, something and say, “Hey, what do you think? My creep meter is pegging right now.” And, he was usually right on. Just had a good sense for people. Well, this guy “Baldwin” became one of his best friends; he had Matt over to his apartment, introduced him to his whole family, and spent many nights laughing and playing cribbage. Matt finally found someone that was real. Matt’s mom)

July 29, Wednesday, 2009 rating 6.5/10

Woke up dope sick again today, without much prospect for anything happening. though I had to wait until tomorrow for my vikes, but then I devised a plan.  It took quite a bit, a hell of a lot of walking, but it was a wonderful, sunny day outside, and I got to see a lot of the cool, old warplanes overhead on my walk.  Morton’s filled my vikes, cost me $30, which I had to advance from Cash in a Flash, but it was well worth it.  I got to work just in time, but performed poorly, I don’t really know why, but my stomach side hurt, which may be my liver telling me I’ve taken a bit too much vicodin/tylenol at once.  Saw April (girl drug friend) at work for a bit, tells me she’s sick, but I can clearly see that she isn’t because she calls if she is sick, and she hasn’t called.  I guess that means I’ll be keeping all these vikes to myself this time!!  She doesn’t help me get shit anyways, a  little weed once in a while, but beyond that nothing.  If I can’t rely on her to score, she is worthless to me as a partner, so she can fend for herself.  I have Joey (his dealer), which is all I really need.  I feel alright now, not really too high, but just dandy anyways.  I have tomorrow off, I’m going to try to score some smoke.  Hope I can.

I heard that Ronnie (guy that worked with Matt) called trying to get his job back today! What an idiot.  Glad they won’t listen to him, asshole.

Man, I’m coming off as a kind of an ass in this journal entry.  But, John (roommate) has been pissing me off a lot.  I’m seriously considering moving.  This house sucks anyways, with the train, and his animals, and HIM!! Shit just gets on my nerves you know?  I keep it all inside, never stand-up for myself.  I’ve never had to before!! People have just never been so f***ing mean-spirited, not back home they weren’t.  I hope I can avoid changing into one of them anyways.

Talked to Jessie (Matt’s first love from HS) on Facebook.  Looks like the 12th of August we’ll be hanging out.  I’m looking forward to it!!

Intake: 80 mg hydroco, oral

(Have you ever lived with someone who just didn’t want you there, felt that a bad day on their part meant open irritation to you, or just knit-picked at everything you did? Well, Matt couldn’t leave a single spoon in the sink, couldn’t be downstairs when this roommate was home [unless he wanted a smarmy comment], was not allowed to keep his food in the kitchen, and was never asked to play cards, meet this guy,s friends, or do anything social.  When I met him he simply said “hi” and then walked to another room. Matt also said he sort of had little, temper tantrums and stormed around the place weekly. I really felt sorry for Matt as this was his only refuge from the daily drama he was staring in. As I said in an earlier post, when Matt moved to Madison not only did his two roommates become his two close friends, but even the neighbors became friends with him. He only lived there 3 weeks and something like 8 or 10 people came up for his funeral. This roommate never even sent a card.)

July 28, Tuesday, 2009 rating 5/10

Today I awoke a little on the dope sick side, which actually kinda surprised me because of my dose yesterday; it should have kept me okay until at least the afternoon.

John, my roommate, has been an insufferable dick lately, so I decided it was best to head for Aunt Cindy’s for the afternoon.  I went mainly to use the phone, but of course the opportunity presented itself to grab a few tabs.  So, I did, being quite careful to moderate, taking only 2–just wanted to feel not so sick and perform well at work, which was accomplished.  I used the phone and finally go ahold of mom; she was on some remote lake in Minnesota, right in the boat fishing when she called me back.  We talked for a while, and I got her nailed down on me visiting sometime in August, which is just great by me!!   I miss home.  Something to look forward to, I haven’t been home in ages!, since March in fact, so it’s just great!

Work went well.  Jack was in the kitchen, and he made everything run nice and smooth.  It was slow compared to what they expected, good!  I get paid the same regardless.

Saw April at work.  She gave me a ride home.  She swears up and down that she’s been sick too, but she hasn’t called me in the last few days, so I’m not so sure about all that.  I got her on the hook with my pill day on Thursday, so let’s see if she comes through for me tomorrow.  I really hope so.  I need to not be sick just this week.

It’s nice in a way not to be so totally f***ed up everyday.  I sometimes wonder what I miss.

Hmmm…, I think I will begin rating day on a scale of 1–10 (one being the very, very worst and 10 being the very best).  Everyday from now on in this journal right with the date heading.  Today would rate as a very average 5, nothing really good nor bad happening, kinda boring and unimpressive anyways. So, now I’ll be doing that.  I can’t believe I’ve written this journal now for 2 whole weeks!! It’s really great; I love it!

Intake: 20 mg oxyco, oral

P.S. I just realized that I was up north in June for my Aunt’s funeral.

(Yes, Matt was up north for a funeral.  My sister died on her way home from work when someone ran a light and broadsided her. Died suddenly at age 50. Matt spoke at her funeral by delivering the eulogy. Life really isn’t guaranteed for any of us, is it.)

July 27, Monday, 2009

Renee and Matt. so ironic, Renee’s ex-husband is taking this picture and Matt so loves Renee. They have been friends since 8th grade.

(These are not the real names as I want to protect the identities of those who may feel uncomfortable with the personal nature of Matt’s journals. Anyway, “Renee” is Matt’s constant friend from middle school and his heart-throb. They dated in MS for a bit until we moved. They wrote a bit, lost contact, and then bumped into each other during HS. Stayed in touch since. I haven’t sent this blog link to anyone at all that I or Matt knew, but I am thinking to send it to her. She is still to this day Matt’s biggest fan. Well, that picture there is her. Her ex-husband is taking the photo, a bit awkward as “Renee” laughed when she showed me the pic explaining that she was there to visit Matt for “reasons of the heart” and had to suffer the presence of the ex. Matt’s mom)

Today I got to see Renee!! Wow, it was really awesome;   I missed her a lot, but she was only able to hang around for like an hour before continuing to Madison with Levi, her ex-husband.   Something very strange happened while she was here; she was pointing out to me just how desolate, ugly, and depressing Oshkosh really is—I guess I always saw it before, but after she mentioned it , well, it really got to me.  I was depressed from that point forward.  I feel now, I realize, just like I felt in jail, trapped in a cage without ability to break out and into some other form of freedom—and it IS this place, these people who do it to me.  When I got here I was so full of optimism, so much looking forward, but now I feel so empty, so sad, so trapped.  I have just made the decision today that I will break-out of here, I will move again to somewhere nicer, better for me.  Renee has mentioned that Madison would be a good choice, and it has sparked my curiosity.  One big problem is that I’m still on supervision, with a VERY cool agent.  I’m hesitant to more anywhere that would place me under a new supervisor. because no one could possibly be as cool as Laurie.  I can hardly think that I will be able to survive here until Nov. 2010 either.  It’s a bad position to be in, which is why I feel I need the drugs. It really takes my mind off everything around me, gives me a focus point (albeit, a negative one).  What am I going to do?  Confused now, really just want to feel good.

I was just starting to feel really dope sick today, but we popped over to Aunt Cindy’s and she wasn’t home, with doors unlocked we went inside and I was able to score 3 tabs.  Feel bad about it, as always, very ashamed, but sometimes I feel as if I haven’t a choice.  I need to grow some balls and get off this shit, it’s stupid.  Also, it’s now EAA, so the restaurant is nuts, which sucks ass! Only 4 more crazy shifts to go!

Intake: 30 mg oxyco, oral

July 26, Sunday, 2009

(So, what would you do as this man? How would you face each day? As Emily Dickinson once wrote,

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune–without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I’ve heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

However, what happens when Hope is gone? When the icy droplets of defeat freeze the will to continue, when the storm crusts the branches, when the bird is ensconced in layers of memories, and only the muffled song or maybe a memory of the song are heard, what would you do? Some of you reading may not feel that your daily existence depends on Hope. But, if you would humor me a bit, consider that hope is tied to faith, faith/hope that your loved ones will answer the phone, that your car will start, that you don’t have cancer, that you will eat today, that you will find love, that you will have kids and grand kids and family outings and campfire chats, and a life without daily pain and shame. Life without hope dries a person’s soul. In the words of Langston Hughes,

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore–
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over–
like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?

For Matthew, it was a heavy load that was daily on his mind. Matt’s mom”

Today was the first time I worked at the restaurant on a Sunday, and then being open only for this EAA bullshit, that’s going to seriously test my patience for the next week. Tonight sucked, Tabitha was doing non-essential work all evening and left me to the actual main shit (just like always). They don’t see what I do for them, not one bit. It’s a shame. When, oh when, God, will I decide to throw myself back into school? The tipping point is coming soon enough where I will elevate or destroy myself forever.

I remember today as quite depressing. I awoke in a depressed mood and it stuck with me throughout the day, probably because I knew that I wouldn’t be getting high. I didn’t get high today, didn’t take a thing. I’m sipping some whiskey now, just because, but no opiates were to be found. This is good; I feel a sense of clarity off of that shit. But, I feel naked at the same time, deeply bored, useless. I need to work harder; really I do, if I’m going to get anywhere at all. I’m not feeling sick yet, tomorrow I will be I’m sure.

Intake: Ø, day one

July 25, Sat., 2009

Walking through the jungle, age 7. Who knew that he would be walking through a more dangerous jungle at age 24.


A____ stopped over yet again this morning, this time just so I could fix her up.  I clipped 15 mg from her without her even knowing, so that worked out nicely.  Went to work, it was one of the busiest days I’ve ever worked so far at the flats.  Things kinda broke down there for a while.  They really have no clue as to what the f*** is gong on there, at all it seems.  It was a bad night also because A____ kinda got a little cold about helpin me out with the whole drug business; I had to limp over to J____’s and beg for a 30 mg with the last $8 I have to my name. Good thing it worked out and I staved off the sickness for a little longer.  But, tomorrow I really have not options left except dope sick.  I don’t think I have any more avenues left to my disposal; I’m broke, and now I wonder if A____ is gonna come thru with some suboxone [I couldn’t figure this word out, so if you know let me know and I will fix it, Matt’s mom.] help.  Maybe it’s better in the long run if she doesn’t; I need to kick down–or off for that matter.  It would be amazing freedom if I could just get off, get away from all this shit.  This worry about being physically sick is just the worst.  My tracks from the last week are starting to really show. I need off this shit, fast.

Intake: 45 mg morphine IV

(If you are following Matt’s journals you are maybe starting to see how very much he wanted to be free. So often in passing conversations with those who are confronted with addicts I hear their condemnation and monkey court verdicts; they really don’t realize how very much the addicts want to be free. Yes, they hold on to their addictions, and putting someone in a rehab is something like trying to force a cat in a toilet bowl–claws out and terrified. However, as I read Matt’s journals for the first time after his death, I realized how very trapped and hopeless he felt. How many others right this moment are feeling the same–trapped, worried, frightened?  Matt’s mom)

July 24, Friday, 2009

Hung out with A_____ again today, went on the stereotypical “pill hunt” early this afternoon, and couldn’t score.  A_____ gets sick after only 20 hours or so, her habit is way bad.  She’s going to crash here, just like me, but can she handle it? Ended up scoring after work, that was nice, but for the first time in 2 years I have quite noticeable track marks on my right arm, which will certainly prevent me from selling any plasma for the next few weeks, or until I can quit shooting long enough for them to heal. F***.

Saw E____ at work tonight.  She was nice, but her typical weird coldness was in full effect.  I highly doubt that anymore “sexy time” will occur with her, which kinda sucks.  She is pretty hot, but she obviously isn’t into me, and I see it.

This other girl, N_____, has gotten my attention at work lately.  She is young for me, only 18, but after checking her Facebook page thoroughly I have discovered that she is quite wise past her years, mature in her tastes and experiences..  I get the feeling at work that she is attracted to me … and am to her in the slightest way.  I hesitate because she is so very young.  My prediction is that we will spend time together this week.  I could see a future with her, quite intelligent.

Intake: 75 mg morphine IV

July 23, Thursday, 2009


Well, today was a great day, a carbon-copy of yesterday except I didn’t have to work and got paid–$397 this week, of which $120 was spent on dope.  I have to pay my note interest this week for $55, which is also considered an old drug debt, so all told I’ve spent $175 on dope, almost half of my total income, and I wonder why I haven’t been traveling? This needs to stop.

A____got the dentist job today–she  is so happy, and I am happy for her.  We got really high, again, smoked a lot of good weed and then shot 45 mg morphine a piece.  I can see from reading this journal that my drug use is the centerpiece of my entire lifestyle.  Needs to stop before this gets any worse.  A___ really needs to stop because she has so much going for her; she will lose it all here again, we’ll see.

Average day, a few trips to the dealers, and a burn-cruise, another day wasted.  My intestines are plugged up really bad today too; it’s going to suck going potty when I finally do. A sunny, beautiful summer day of my prime youth, spent getting high and blowing hard-earned cash.  Need to stop wasting these wonderful days in my life.

Intake: smoked twice, 105 mg morphine IV

July 22, Wednesday, 2009

Wow! What an awesome and amazing day in every way possible.  It started with me waking up to the sight and sound of wonderful rain, which  we haven’t had it seems in weeks! A____ stopped by, ready for her interview with the old dentist.  We shared a 15 mg shot of morphine, and the found out that doc was sick today, so we decided to make our own fun.  We went to A____’s house and scored some really good weed from her dad’s bag.  We drove around and got really high; it was so much fun, a really psychedelic experience–I loved every minute.  I went shopping with her and then we hooked up with J____ and scored 90 mg.  I shot her with 45 of it and she got a really good rush; she turned completely red, like she had a sun-burn.  I shot my 45 after she left and just sunk into a semiconscious euphoria driven by the weed but softened by the incredible hit of morphine I had.  The time went so quickly, before I knew it I was at work, which was also awesome.  I was treated so well by M___H and the rest of management.  They re-did the schedule, and I got all of R____’s hours!  He’s f**king gone, and I’m GLAD…that I never have to see his mean, ugly ass ever again at work.  I feel so much happier at work just because he’s gone now.  I don’t have to deal with his immature, hateful, lazy, lying, stupid personality anymore!  I’m going to try and assume his role in the kitchen, move up that ladder in short fashion.  I think it’s possible, but I’m holding my breath because I can never quite tell what management is thinking or doing.  I know I can run that kitchen a thousand times better than R____ ever could. I’m glad he’s gone now.

I got home from work and scored another 60 mg, got a really good rush, but now I’m into J____ for $100; that’s way too much, but I’m sure I can deal it down with valium, I hope anyways.  I have all day off tomorrow.  I think I may be able to chill with A____ again, maybe smoke a little more.  Going to shoot some more morphine for sure, but I have to kick my habit down soon, for R____, for myself.

Intake: smoked great weed, 120 mg morphine IV

( So that you can keep the initials straight, J___ is his dealer and A____ is the dealer’s girlfriend. R____  in the last sentence is a girl Matt knew since middle school, not the coworker he ranted about above. He was very good friends with her. She’s not a user of drugs. They always did have a bit of romantic attraction but seem to always be involved with someone else during the other’s single status. Just so strange as the two really made a great match. I would say that out of everyone in Matt’s entire life R____ was the steadiest true friend. In the end, he moved to be closer to her. She made the last weeks of his life the best weeks of his life, truly.

As for Matt’s good-day journal posts like this one, they always remind me of Coleridge’s Kubla Khan or Keat’s La Belle Dame Sans Merci because the pleasure is just a trap, a trap he willingly enters. Doubling pain and disillusionment always follows the exuberant pleasure in time. Keat’s poem follows:

O WHAT can ail thee, knight-at-arms,

Alone and palely loitering?

The sedge has wither’d from the lake,

 And no birds sing.

O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms!

So haggard and so woe-begone?

The squirrel’s granary is full,

And the harvest’s done.

lily on thy brow

With anguish moist and fever dew,

And on thy cheeks a fading rose

Fast withereth too.

I met a lady in the meads,

Full beautiful—a faery’s child,

Her hair was long, her foot was light,

And her eyes were wild.

I made a garland for her head,

And bracelets too, and fragrant zone;

She look’d at me as she did love,

And made sweet moan.

I set her on my pacing steed,

And nothing else saw all day long,

For sidelong would she bend, and sing

A faery’s song.

She found me roots of relish sweet,

honey wild, and manna dew,

And sure in language strange she said—

“I love thee true.”

she took me to her elfin grot,

And there she wept, and sigh’d fill sore,

And there I shut her wild wild eyes

With kisses four.

And there she lulled me asleep,

And there I dream’d—Ah! woe betide!

The latest dream I ever dream’d

On the cold hill’s side.

I saw pale kings and princes too,

Pale warriors, death-pale were they all;

They cried—“La Belle Dame sans Merci

Hath thee in thrall!”

I saw their starved lips in the gloam,

With horrid warning gaped wide,

And I awoke and found me here,

On the cold hill’s side.

And this is why I sojourn here,

Alone and palely loitering,

Though the sedge is wither’d from the lake,

And no birds sing.

Matt’s mom)

July 21, Tuesday, 2009

Well, today was actually a really big, good day for me, so much happened! It started when I scored big on the morphine–my dealer came by and fronted me 90 mg! See? What a nice guy.  I’ll even be able to pay him back via valium, so good for me.  A____ came by next and got high.  I got her a job working for the old dentist, S_____. She is thrilled and so am I that I could help her out; makes me feel great when I help other people.

Work was strange too.  I had to go in and take this stupid-ass piddley test, which was all bull s**t.  We then proceeded to have a big “meeting” with all the kitchen staff in attendance.  Nothing of importance was discussed, but you wouldn’t know it from the tone of the whole thing–M__H__, the ‘boss’ so to speak of the kitchen was doing all he could to put off responsibility of the terrible way this place is run onto all of us.  It didn’t work.  Everyone knows he is worthless.  I got stuck there from 2 pm until I had to leave a 8:30.  R___ FINALLY QUIT!! Thank God! What a worthless asshole he was.   I am so happy that I won’t have to deal with him any longer, whatever happens.  I hope to finally move to the top spot at this restaurant.  I feel they don’t think that I’m capable, but I will prove it to them one way or another.  I’m going to talk to them about taking on R___’s responsibilities as soon as I go in tomorrow.  I’m worried they may turn me down for that incompetent T____, worthless too!

On Facebook I saw K_____E_____ say that Uncle J____ wants to send me a plane ticket to Cleaveland sometime soon.  That would be f***ing awesome! I would be really happy to explore the family again, maybe scout Cleaveland as a new place to live and work, who knows?  I’m as free as the wind now, and looking for the next opportunity.  I would really like to know my father’s side of the family, always wanted to, this may be my chance!

Anyways, it’s been a great day, mixed in ways, but cool nonetheless.

Intake: 105 mg morphine IV

July 20, Monday, 2009

Went back to A. C_____’s today and helped her get her house ready for the realtor.  As far as I could tell she didn’t realize any issues with my heist yesterday; the bottle was left out in the open again.  I was able to boost 3 more tabs, which I really didn’t want to do, but it was too tempting to resist.  I’ve really gotta stop with this shit; it’s stupid and dangerous, risky in ways that I can’t handle.  My hopes and dreams die a little more each day when I do this.   It’s not a position I want myself in, but I return to it nonetheless, irresistible.

Talked to B___C___ today.  Found out that E___Sr.  passed away.  He was old and ill, it was his time, but still death haunts me when it happens.  I will not be able to attend his funeral on the 27th–for that I am quite sorry.  I long to go back north for a visit.  I miss my family now; being so lonely here gets to me.  I spend time now only with my dealer, who is nice enough, but we will always have a “business” relationship, and I need more than that to be anywhere near happy.  I hate the way things are now.  The possibility of suicide creeps once again into my thoughts.

I think about all the plans for my life that I’ve ruined; I think about the failure that I have become.  I understand there is still so much time for me to set everything straight, but I feel a lack of will and fortitude within to accomplish anything. Why not just give up?   Go to sleep, put these dreams and demons to rest in the same grave.  I don’t think I have the courage to kill. My threshold for pain is too high, so I will continue to suffer, seeking purpose by accident only, bumping into the next reality.  I would like to imagine that this suffering means something, but for the life of me I cannot see passed it and into my own future.  I’m  back into the hole of addiction. It consumes my every thought now–this is about 80% of all of my problems–God, help me.  I will continue to suffer.  Tomorrow I will score some morphine I think, shoot it up, get high.  Thursday will be a hell of a day when I get paid.  I will be buying more of that s**t. F**k.

Intake:  30 mg oxycodone

July 19, Sunday, 2009

Well, as expected I woke up dope sick as hell.  Decided to make my way to A.C_____’s place in order to score just enough to get off this sick feeling.  I found out that her bottle of percocet 10/325 was lying right out in the kitchen.  I was shocked!  I conned her into giving me 3, which would have done me just fine, but no, never enough for me to just make do–I had to get high.  I ended up swiping an additional 8.5 tabs.  The half one is what killed me because it was the “marker” in the bottle. L____ went for one for his daughter, discovered that half missing, and then A.C____ counted her whole bottle–I almost had a heart attack!!  She didn’t say anything on the ride home, but she has to know–I feel terrible, but more just nervous that I may have been caught.  I gotta stop this madness; it’s not worth it at all.  I could kill my relationship with these wonderful people, which would be terrible for everyone, just for a few pills.

Talked some more with C___G____.  I think he may move to Oshkosh and I could help him. Talked to E____ too, hope she comes around real soon!

Intake:  95 mg oxycodone, 1 mg klonopin

July 18, Saturday, 2009

Boring day.  Worked six hours today from 4 to 10 pm.  Checked the schedule; it was like a slap in the face–45.5 hours total for the next 2 weeks, unbelievable.  My poverty deepens.  E____ wasn’t at work as I thought she would be.  Disappointed I couldn’t do something w/her tonight.  Hung out with J____ after work, smoked a bowl and split a Valium.   Had a nice talk.

I’m feeling a tad bit dope sick tonight, but the real pain will start tomorrow I’m thinking.  Hope I can score from A.C______, maybe, but I don’t have high hopes.

That’s it, uneventful today.

Intake: smoked, 5 mg diazepam

(J___ here is Matt’s dealer. If you are wondering about ‘dope sick’, it’s Matt’s term for the withdrawals he experienced. From his later writings I believe they are somewhat severe and actually made him sick like I get sick, with stomach pain and all.

As for A.C____, I need to be very cautious with names. She was the reason I sent him down there actually: Christian, married, stable, and versed in addiction problems having come from a family with addiction issues. She even conquered an addiction herself and was clean for years. Anyway, about a month before Matt died he told me something about the whole drop-off at her house the day he moved there.  This totally shocked me and made me not trust people for face value. Okay, I’ve been aching about how to say this for days, but A.C____ had ties to family, was older, and was also using prescription pain meds for a chronic condition. She and I talked on the phone about where Matt could move so he could work and pay his fines back. Matt and I talked and he didn’t much like the idea, but free rent while he got on his feet was good. Other places just weren’t an option. You see, he lost his licence and couldn’t drive, so hometown just didn’t work. It didn’t work to the tune of 5 months. Oshkosh had busses and businesses within walking distance, AND, it had a couple of family ties versed in how to handle addicts, or so I was told. My actual relatives in the area were not an option.

Well, when I drove away, kisses and hugs given, A.C_____ immediately went to her meds, pulled them out, and gave some to Matt. “Here Matt, you want some? I know how it is. Ya, that’s okay.”  Matt didn’t tell me this until he was about out of Oshkosh. At that point of telling, I think he was just trying to tell me things that I needed to know. To this day, I never confronted her about this.  Why? Her tears were real. She very sincerely mourned his death. So,what good would it do? She knows. God knows. What’s done is done. Most importantly, she is living and needs to keep on. Hers tears were plenty for me. If she knew that I knew then… Maybe this is better left between her and God. I do trust God to handle this better than I can.  

The question I would like answered is ‘Why would someone/anyone do this?’. Coming from an addictive past, did she want to connect, look cool, get his acceptance? Why would she do that? I am trying to figure out the culture of addiction. So, do addicts like the fact that others are also, and water each other? I am starting to think so. Less judgment in those who live in glass houses sort of mentality? If you have an answer, I would love input on this.

You may be wondering if Matt was lying. I highly doubt it as it gained him nothing. Oh, he lied to me plenty, don’t get me wrong. But, he always lied with gain in mind.  And, this was said at a point when he was trying hard to explain himself to me without being asked. The last weeks of Matt’s life were spent tying to amend things, trying to enjoy the sun, trying to find peace. He told me this so that I understood just one more crazy coincidence in his life. I am still blown away by the culture of addiction.  Matt’s mom )

July 17, Friday, 2009

Well, boring day.  Went to work in a shit mood, ended in a better one. Still can’t figure E_____ out; would like to get physical again with her real soon–beyond that, god only knows. People are strange.  I’m lonely, as such I’m acting and thinking strange thoughts.  I ate the last 10 vicodins I had tonight, and for the next 2 weeks I have to hustle.  I will be fighting the “sickness”; shit, I should be okay if a little bit bored.  J_____is being nicer; his lady is around, and she has a good effect on him.  I need another job, and I want a girlfriend like CRAZY!  I think I may even hit on some of the younger girls around just for something to do.  I really need to get back in touch with Jesus, let Him guide my way.  It’s so hard now, distracted by only my own sin.  That’s it for tonight.  Hopefully, something more profound happens tomorrow.

Intake: 85 mg hydroco, 12.5 mg diazepam

(So that you don’t get lost in the blanked out names, and this will become important, J______ here is Matt’s landlord/roommate.  The picture above is his room. Matt never really connected with this guy for some reason. A territory thing I think. The guy didn’t really want a roommate but needed the money, so Matt was sort of the step-child from an affair with money. Matt rented a room from him, right close to the train tracks, in a big, old, bachelor type house–floor levels didn’t match from room to room, odd transitions from one room through a bedroom , to another sort of set-up, and it had lots of strange colors for walls. But, the price was right for Matt, and he was put in a corner to get a place as he had burned through a couple already in the year that he had been there and, well, others just fell through due to his police record. I’m pretty sure every single, last, time I spoke with Matt, he hated living with this roommate. I labor this as the living situation made Matt want out of Oshkosh desperately, and J_____ is also the name of his dealer, who he hung out with the next day. Matt’s mom.)

July 16, Thursday, 2009

I missed my damn journal entry for last night! I was too f***ed up after speed-balling a couple times through the day.  I remember that work pissed me off because R___ was a dick all night. Let’s see, I have to document intake here quick: Yesterday 30 mg adderal, 70 mg hydroco, 15 mg diazepam.

Today was interesting.  K____ called me out of the blue and woke me up, had me over and we got high.  I got Really high for some reason. Probably because I don’t smoke much anymore.  I came home and slept all the way until I went to work.  E____was working in the kitchen tonight, and I really wanted to do something with her tonight, but she blew me off.   I had to chase her to her car, and then it seemed that she didn’t even want to talk to me–strange.  Maybe now I get the hint.  I feel embarrassed.  I hold out hope that she will want to do something here in the future (soon) but am unsure.  I think it won’t happen, but who knows?

Talked with C____G____ tonight for several hours.  He’s gotten himself into quite a situation, marooned in OK state.  Poor guy, smart, but at loss for romance.

Intake: 70 mg hydroco, 7.5 Diazepam, smoked

(I had little to no idea Matt was even using drugs. How naive. We spoke on the phone once a week or so, and mostly about his job. Also, Oshkosh had extended family there that I trusted to watch over him. But, they did know. They knew quite well in fact. I was the only one who didn’t.

Looking back, the signs should have told me. He was always having trouble where he worked, and the stories all seemed the same–some jerk boss, coworkers complaining, money missing and not his fault….

For anyone reading this who knows someone in this situation, I would like to say what I believe I should have done differently. I should have called more often, visited more often, and asked to meet people he knew. I should have made close ties with those people. I should have been more present in other words. That presence would not have been judgmental but rather reflective and loving. Addiction seems to be full of lying and hiding. Being more present, friends and family have the opportunity to help the addict see reality more clearly with loving reflection.  Matt’s mom)

July 14, Tuesday, 2009

Big day today. It started with my wonderful little run-around with the clinic and then pharmacy people about filling my Vicodin and Valium early. This shit would never happen up north! Hung out with A____e early this morning–she thinks she may be pregnant. J___called me today! The first time I’ve spoken to her in 7 hears! Wow, what a conversation, 7 years of history, 7 years of life I missed with a girl who impacted me so much in my youth–2001, a huge year for me. I really grew up and into a life of darkness, not her fault, but she was along for the ride.

Made up with my dealer today. He’s a nice guy, except for the fact that he’s a junkie, and it makes him into a beast I’m familiar with.  I like him personally; he helps me out a lot in ways other dealers would never do, but, of course, the nature of our business makes us all a little ill-behaved from time to time. I feel bad for him; I feel bad for all of us really, this path we’ve chosen. I need to get out before I become a felon, which will end my dreams forever.

Today I’ve eaten a 10 mg Valium and 13 x 5’s of Vicodin, with some weed and 15 mg speed mixed in for good measure.

(If you follow Matt’s journal, you will see that at times all he will post is his intake. For some reason he wanted to record it. I think maybe he needed to see his progression/digression as he might forget. As for the names, sorry, but I don’t want to record events of people who maybe don’t want to be involved. But, A____ will become an interesting character later on. As for J____ ,she is his high school first love–such a nice girl who has become a real lady and presence in this world. When I first met her, I was like, “Uhmm, Matt she has lots of dark make-up. Is she like an emo or something?” However, I really came to enjoy her responsible yet fun nature. The break-up with J____ was sudden and final. Matt ached over it for years, as he was a true love, stick to it, never give up, sort of boy with his affections. However, to no avail would Matt win her back.

She did pop in to say ‘hi’ once.  We didn’t visit long. Sort of uncomfortable for her I sensed. And, she accepted my Facebook request to friend. I suspect she is a bit like me, not a big socializer. Therefore, I don’t believe we messaged each other even once. Yup, she’s like me, remembers but doesn’t really talk about the past as the present is so, well, present. 

As for you the reader of my thoughts and Matt’s life, I don’t mind at all if you are feeling lost and want an explanation. I may not know on some info., but will try to respond on what I do know.

Please visit again,

Matt’s mom)

Long overdue–July 13, 2009, Journal I, page 1

Well, I feel that it’s about time to start a journal. To this point I have played around with the idea, and I suppose in some ways I regret not starting one sooner; better late than never.  For the sake of my future self, I must be honest within these pages; failure to do so will render this endeavor useless, so, here goes nothing.

I’m 24, and I feel pretty impotent for my youth. I’m just about half way through a 2 year probation term that has gone by quite easily to this point. I’m working at this Mexican restaurant in Oshkosh as a cook. I’m living independently on $600/month; for that I’m proud. I live as a boarder with J_____, in a big old room with teal paint. I’m still using opiates, a fact that has impacted my current situation less than it should. I have been able (since July last year) to mitigate the negative effects it has had on my life–quite a surprising fact. My habit eats up my extra money, but my basic bills get paid.  I need to kill this part of my personality off if I am to have any hope of reaching my higher goals.

I’ve recently met E____, a strange creature, but something draws me to her nonetheless. Perhaps it is just loneliness–and I think it is nothing more than that–it’s been almost 3 years since I’ve seen Paulina, and I still think about her…although I know there is no use in it.  Anyways, my first impressions of E____ are of a cold, selfish, scientist (I find myself feeling very uncomfortable thinking about her in this way). I question where our…aquaintance will go.  Perhaps she will drop me; I have a feeling that it may happen.  Or, perhaps she will continue to use me.  I allow her to use me now for the simple fact that I believe some of my own wants will be fulfilled along the way. What a terrible way to act.  I feel that I am destined to more principled in my interactions with others.  I still seek truth in love, it eludes me still, and I feel that it will for some time to come.

My goals today are centered on going back to eastern Europe–Ukraine, to see Ira, and back to Poland as well. I’ve been lazy lately; I don’t know why.   I need to get moving.  This is a short-term goal.

I worked for about 5 hours tonight, and it went well, busy, but I’m not dope sick. I had a 10 mg methadone that kept my head and body in line.  Up to today, work is going well, better in fact than a few weeks ago when I felt that I may have quit altogether.  I haven’t spoken to my mother in about a month, which sucks.  Right now my best friends are Rose, Rob, and Lukasz.  I don’t have any “real” friends in Oshkosh proper.

Anyways, that’s the start to this journal.  I will try my best to keep up with the entries, knowing that in years to come I will thank myself.

(This is Matt’s first journal entry. He had been living in Oshkosh for over a year at this point. If you have any questions or the text is unclear due to not understanding the background, feel free to leave a message and I will try to explain. Thanks for reading and I look forward to your comments: Matt’s mom.)